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BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY, 

iWo. 131 Washington. Street—up stairs* 
OLD STAND OF RICHARDSON, LORD & HOLBROOK, AND CARTER, HENDEE & CO. 



The Subscribers being engaged in the publication of School-Books, would call the attention 
cf those who are interested in Teaching, and School Committees, to the following List of 
valuable Class Books for Common Schools and Academies; believing tham equal if not 
superior to any other Class Books in use. They are all manufactured in the most thorough 
and careful manner, from ihe best materials; and for neatness and durability will be found 
superior to the great majority 'or School-Books. 

Copies of any of the works enumerated in the following List will be furnished to Teachers 
or members of School Committees, &c. for examination — free of charge. — Where a 
class is desirous of making a trial of any of the books, they will be furnished on liberal terms, 
with the privilege of returning them, if they do not give satisfaction. 

G. W. PALMER & CO. 

Boston, Feb. 1838. 



WORCESTER'S READING BOOKS, FOR SCHOOLS. 

I. WORCESTER'S FIRST BOOK, OR PRIMER. 

II. WORCESTER'S SECOND BOOK, FOR READING AND SPELLING. 

III. WORCESTER'S THIRD BOOK, FOR READING AND SPELLING, WITH RULES 

AND INSTRUCTIONS FOR AVOIDING COMMON ERRORS. 

IV. WORCESTER'S FOURTH BOOK FOR READING, WITH RULES AND IN- 

STRUCTIONS. 

The above form a complete seri fta ^ f Reading Bonks, which are not surpassed by any other 
works for this purpose now befo Tftertttes which are inserted in the Third 

and Fourth Books, have been fou fl ' : - correcting the young reader, 

while they give great assistance 

The Publishers have been inf 
that classes taught from this se 
cal knowledge, in this all-impo ■■■.<■■ 
have acquired in thrice the time from etJ 

Re commendations of the above Works from Individuals and . 

From William Russell, Teacher of Elocution, 

Feb. 5, 1838. 

In a letter recently received by the Publishers, Mr. Russell remarks, — K Tt gives me great 
pleasure to have opportunity of orfi'ring any testimony 1 can render to Mr. Worcester's seriei 
of Reading Books. I consider them the best adapted of any to youthful readers. They are 
more simple in matter and style, and more interesting to children, than any others that I have 
tried. They are finely suited, in particular, to the offices of maternal instruction at home. 

They are, further, excellently adapted to the improvement of young readers in articulation 
and pronunciation, as many prevailing eirors are carefully indicated in them. The senti- 
ments, too, which are embodied in these books, are such as parents would wish to have incul- 
cated during the early years of life." 

From Ebenczer Bailey, Principal of the Young Ladies' High School, Boston; Author of 
" Young Ladies' Class Book," and " First Lessons in Jllgebra." 

(t I have used Worcester's seiies of Reading Books in my school ever since they were pub- 
lished, and regard thorn as among the most valuable works of the kind with which I am ao- 
quainted." 

From Rev. James TV. Poland, Teacher of Youth. 

11 Having made use of Worcester's Third and Fourth Books of Lessons for Reading, &c. 
in my school for some time past, I feel that I can recommend them wiih perfect confidence, 
as being superior to any that 1 have ever used, for forming correct habits in reading- At the 
commencement of. each lesson a rule is given in such a familiar manner, that no scholar, after 
reading it twice, can forget the substance of it. The errorg noticed ut the close of each le«- 



2 BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. 

§011, together with the questions, fix the attention still more, and afford both interest and 
instruction. T sincerely hope that many teachers of youth will he induced to give both hooks 
a candid examination, after which, 1 think they will not hesitate to give them their decided 
preference." 

From Rev. James Culbertson, Rev. G. C. Sedgwick, W. Buell, Esq. and John M. Howe, 
(Principal Mclntgre Free School,) Zanesville, Ohio. 

11 We have examined Worcester's Reading Books, and think them the most useful reading 
books that have yet appeared. We recommend to Parents and Teachers to give them an 
early examination." 

From the Principal of the Woodstock, ( Vl.) High School. 

" Worcester's Fourth Book is truly deserving of notice. The subjects and arrangements are 
indeed excellent. His rules at the head of each chapter, and his exposition of errors, together 
with his list of phrases, &c. all combine to render the book such an one as is needed in our 
schools. 

" Those who have used Mr. Worcester's Primer are aware of his peculiar talents in ren- 
dering those usually ' dry subjects ' interesting to children ; and to them it is sufficient to say, 
that the Second Book has the same simple and attractive character as the First. 

" We hardly know of a book which h.is contributed so extensively, or so effectually to the 
improvement of education in its early stages, as Worcester's Primer. We are glad to see a 
secondary book by the same author. The same simplicity and animation which character 
ised the Primer, and the same neat and agreeable style of cuts, with an appropriate elevation 
of the intellectual and moral effect of the lessons, prevail in the present work. This hook 
possesses peculiar excellence in regard to instruction in the art of reading." — Education 
Reporter. 

l< It is constructed on the same plan with the Third Book of the same series *, each selec- 
tion, whether of prose or poetry, being preceded by a rule for reading, and followed by a list 
of common errors in pronouncing some of the words included in it. The object of these pe- 
culiarities of Mr. Worcester's Third and Fourth Books, is to make reading a study in our 
schools, instead of a meie exercise. 

" We regard the Fourth Rook, on the whole, as a useful compilation for the classes for 
whom it was intended. There is a large fund of valuable information embodied in the Rules 
and Instructions at the beginning, and in the Errors and Questions at the end of each chapter, 
as also at the end of the work, even more than the author, in his modesty, has ventured to 
claim." — Annals of Education. 

From the Brooklyn (JV. Y.) Advocate, and Nassau Gazette. 

" Amidst the great diversity of School-Book- *'- ■•«- nave been published, parents have often 
great difficulty in making a selection for. iicir children. We have ourselves been much puz- 
zled on this point ; but have at Iast v .i';t3r considerable search, discovered what we consider 
as decidedly the best Element .ry" reading books ever published. We refer to Worcester's 
four books of Reading and Spelling. \Ve have examined these books attentively ; and can- 
not refrain from expressing our sincere conviction that they are every way worthy of patron- 
age. There are two things, in particular, which, in our opinion, pre-eminently distinguish 
Mr. W.'s hooks over all others. These are, 1st, the peculiar adaptation of the lessons, and 
the method of their induction, to the minds of the children ; and 2d!y, their entire freedom 
from the inculcation of any sentiment or principle not precisely in accordance with the purest 
Scriptural rule. 

''Worcester's Fourth Book should be in the hands of every adult in the country. There is 
no person, however well informed in his mind, or polished or correct in his deportment, that 
might not gain much valuable information therefrom. 

" We have given this extended notice of these books, considering that by so doing we are 
merely performing our duty." 



PARLEY'S SCHOOL-BOOKS. 

I. PARLEY'S ARITHMETIC 5 with numerous Engravings. 

From the Principal of the Young Ladies' 1 Seminary, Exeter, JV. H. 
11 I am sorry I have not had the benefit of ' Parley's Arithmetic * in years past. I have 
never seen any thing hearing the name of Arithmetic half so attractive. Children will have 
Arithmetic at the outset, if they have the good fortune to begin with Peter Parle)'." 

From L. JV. Dag get, JVareham, Mass. 

" Having carefully examined c Parley's Method of Teaching Arithmetic to children,' lean 
most cheerfully recommend it to parents and teachers." 



BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. 6 

" It is an admirable work, full of beautiful engravings, and peculiarly well adapted to the 
wants and capacities of infant mathematicians." — Evening' Gazette. 

w It is prepared in the plainest sty'e and in a manner well calculated to interest and lead 
on the smallest capacity."— Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post. 

<: The plan is a good one, and we think it very well executed." — Worcester Spy. 

il It is an excellent little work." — Northampton Courier. 

u Of its immediate usefulness and success, we have little doubt." — Annals of Education. 

IL PARLEY'S BOOK OF THE UNITED STATES, Geographical, Political, and Histor- 
ical ; with Comparative Views of other Countries. Illustraied by 40 engravings, designed 
and executed in the best manner, expressly for this work, and Light Maps from new steel 

PLATES. 

This book forms an 18mo. volume of upwards of 200 pages, to which is added about 1000 
questions on the matter in the body of the work — together with several hundred questions on 
the Maps. 

u An excellent, compendium — It contains, in a condensed form, a great amount of useful 
information. The plan pursued throughout the book is, in one important respect, superior to 
t' ' almost any other similar work. We refer to the continual comparisons made between 
tiiu 'sets" described, and similar objects in other countries, — theseby showing the resem- 
blance «. d f'iiTc.ences which exist between this and other portions of the earth. The atten- 
.ionoftb" -«nng reader is thus kept more continually awake, and an additional interest is 
t ,art of the book. It is well fitted for the school-room or juvenile library." — 
}-'r evidence Courier. 

This is one of Parley's most admirable productions. * * * * The plan is novel and 
m -nious, and for young pupils excellent •, and the work is worthy of forming an Introduction 
lie First Book of History, for which purpose it was designed by the author." — Annals of 
I •ucation. 
- One of his (Parle) 's) most successful efforts." — Family Magazine. 

i new work for Schools, admirably adapted to its object." — Windham County Democrat. 

; I' '; a nutshell of Knowledge, and ought to be immediately and universally introduced 
»i o fconools." — Exeter News Letter. 

• One of the most useful Books, whether for instruction or amusement, we have seen for a 
D g time, and well calculated to fiil a vacuum in the smaller works, relating to this country, 
v jh has long existed." — Brooklyn, (N. Y.) Advocate. 

f . is a eornpend of valuable instruction." — Philadelphia Saturday News, 

" The work before us we think calculated to be useful to parents in giving instruction to their 
children upon the subjects which it embraces, and is well adapted to the youthful learner in 
Schools." — Christian Watchman. 

III. THE FIRST TOOK OF HISTORY, OR HISTORY ON THE BASIS OF GEOG- 
RAPHY, (comprehending the Countries of the Western Hemisphere,) with sixty Engravings, 
from original Designs, and sixteen Maps of the different sections of the United States and 
the various countries of the Western Hemisphere, executed in the most beautiful manner on 
steel plates. 

" This is decidedly the best historical work for children we have ever met with. It is filled 
with ideas instead of dates. Let every child study this hook t hree months, in his own way, and 
he will have a better knowledge of the history and geography of his own country, than is 
often acquired by spending three year3 in the senseless operation of committing to memory 
page after page of the tiresome treatises in common use." — Brandon Telegraph. 

IV. THE SECOND BOOK OF HISTORY ; (comprehending the Countries of the Eastern 
Hemisphere,) with many Engravings, and sixteen Maps, from steel plates, of the different 
countries. 

" Those who have used the c First Book of History, 5 will need no persuasion to use this 
also ; it is on the same perspicuous plan, and well adapted to the abilities and wants of the 
young historian." — Evening Gazette. 

V. THE THIRD BOOK OF HISTORY; by the same author and on the same plan; 
comprehending Ancient History in connexion with Ancient Geography; with Maps and 
Engravings. 

11 This is an excellent work. It contains an admirable synopsis of the rise, progress, 
and downfall of the Roman Empire, and is written in a familiar style, which, in connexion 
with the many remaikable incidents which it embodies, must make it particularly interesting 
to children." — Mercantile Journal. 

From the Principal of the High School Woodstock, Vt. 
c< I must say, that if any work upon History, of the same extent, is deserving public ap- 
probation for its real merits, it is the ' First, Second, and Third Books of History,' by Peter 
Parley." 



4 BOSTON SCHOOL-BOOK DEPOSITORY. 

SULLIVAN'S CLASS BOOKS FOR SCHOOLS. 

I. THE POLITICAL CLASS BOOK, designed to instruct the Higher Classes in School* 
in the Origin, Nature, and Use of Political Power. By William Sullivan, LL. D. 

" The lihrary of no citizen is complete where this work is wanting ; and if the shelf contains 
no more than a Bible and an Almanac, the householder should not attend a town-meeting un- 
til he has at least read the Political Class Book." — Massachusetts Spy. 

II. THE MORAL CLASS BOOK ; or, the Law of Morals, derived from the Created Uni- 
verse and from Revealed Religion 5 intended for Schools as well as private Reading. By 
William Sullivan, LL. D. 

"The American and British public have united in pronouncing this the best Manual of 
Moral Philosophy ever prepared fur young minds ; we would recommend it most warmly as a 
text-book for schools and closet scholars, and believe that its general use would be productive 
of much good to the rising generation." — Mercantile Journal. 

III. THE HISTORICAL CLASS BOOK ; containing Sketches of History from the begin- 
ning of the world to the end of the Roman Empire. 

" It is written in a chaste and clear style and contains much valuable information. We are 
pleased alike with the plan and its execution, and have little doubt with regard to its utili- 
ty." — Hartford Independent Press. 

11 This work is the most satisfactory Manual of History we have ever met with, and as 
•uch we recommend it to our readers." — New York Mirror. 



GRUND'S MATHEMATICAL COURSE. 

I. AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON GEOMETRY, simplified for Beginners not 
versed in Algebra. Part I. containing Plane Geometry, with its Application to the Solution 
of Problems. By F. J. Grund. 

II. AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON GEOMETRY, simplified for Beginnors not 
versed in Algebra. Part IE. containing Solid Geometry, with its Application to the Solu- 
tion of Problems. By F. J. Grund. 

At a meeting of the School Committee of the city of Boston, Mr. Grujnd*s Geometry was 
recommended as a suitable book to be used in the Public Schools. 

III. ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, with Questions for Review, illustrated 
by one hundred and eighty-eight Engravings ; for the use of Schools. Third Edition, stereo- 
typed. 

IV. ELEMENTS OF CHEMISTRY; with Practical Exercises j for Schools. By F. J. 
Grund. 

V. POPULAR ASTRONOxMY, on a new Plan ; in which some of the leading Principles of 
the Science are illustrated by actual Comparisons, Independent of the use of Numbers. 

VI. EXERCISES IN ARITHMETIC, for Schools 3 with a Key for the use of the Teacher. 

VII. EXERCISES IN ALGEBRA, for Schools ; with a Key for the use of the Teacher. 



RUSSELL'S LESSONS IN ENUNCIATION. New Edition, 

RUSSELL'S GESTURE. New Edition, improved. 

THE CHILD'S BOTANY; with Copperplate Engravings. 9th Edition. 

HOLBROOK'S GEOMETRY. Easy Lessons in Geometry, intended for Infant and Pri- 
mary Schools, but useful in Academies, Lyceums, and Families. By Josiah Holbrook. 
Tenth Edition. 

ABBOTT'S LITTLE PHILOSOPHER. An invaluable work for Primary Schools. 

THE GEOGRAPHICAL COPY-BOOK; consisting of Outline and Skeleton Maps, adapt- 
ed to the use of Schools, with an Introduction, explaining the Nature and Use of Maps, in 
the most familiar manner. By Wm. C. Woodbridge. 

WALSH'S ARITHMETIC. The Mercantile Arithmetic ; adapted to the Commerce of 
the United States in its domestic and foreign Relations ; with an Appendix, containing prac- 
tical Systems of Mensuration, Guaging, and a new and improved System of Book-Keeping. 
A new Edition, revised and enlarged. By Michael Walsh, A. M. 

. NOYES'S SYSTEM OF PENMANSHIP, Containing Instructions for Writing, with two 
lets of Copies in Large and Small hand. 

In addition to the above, G. W. Palmer & Co. have constantly on hand a supply of School, 
Classical, Music and Miscellaneous Books and Stationery, which they will sell on the most 
reasonable terms. 

Boston, Feb. 1838. 



<3M-^> +7?^ ^^- **=W ^f^, 

RUDIMENTS 

/^ GESTURE, 

' / COMPRISING f ^^"P 

ILLUSTRATIONS OF COMMON FAULTS 

ATTITUDE AND ACTION. <*-?*> 




7 



BY WILLIAM RUSSELL. 



SECOND EDITION, IMPROVED. 

WITH FIFTY-SIX llNGRl^INGS. 

- 

TO WHICH IS ADDED AN 

APPENDIX, 

DESIGNED FOR PRACTICAL EXERCISE IN 

DECLAMAT I ON, 

CONSISTING OF A DEBATE ON THE 
CHARACTER OF JULIUS CAESAR. 

B T 

JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 



BOSTON: 

G. W. PALMER & COMPANY. 
1838. 









$ 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by 

J. H. Jenks & G. W. Palmer, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts* 



3 5-/ 



n 



Printed by Wm. A. Hall & Co. 



PREFACE. 



Delivery, as a combination of speech and action, 
addresses itself to the mind through the ear and the 
eye. Regarded as an art, it consists, accordingly, of 
two parts, — elocution, or the regulated functions of 
the voice, — and gesture, or the proper management 
of the body. The following treatise is limited to 
the latter of these branches, which has hitherto been 
much neglected in education, to the injury, not mere- 
ly of the general style of eloquence, but of those fac- 
ulties of mind to which the appropriate delivery of 
sentiment is, perhaps, the best form of discipline. 

Gesture derives its existence from the necessary 
sympathy of mind and body. It is by no means a 
mere product of art. A sympathetic action of the 
outward frame, in correspondence with the activity 
of the mind, is necessarily exerted in the communi- 
cation of thought and feeling, and results from a law 



8 



PREFACE. 



of man's constitution. The repression of such action 
may, it is true, become an habitual trait in the char- 
acter of individuals and of nations ; so may the op- 
posite characteristic of redundancy in gesture. Ex- 
amples of these extremes are furnished in the rigid 
stillness of body, which is customary in the elocu- 
tion of Scotland; or of New England, and in the 
ceaseless movement and gesture of the French. 



to^ 



Education, too, has a powerful influence on de- 
livery. The exclusive application of the under- 
standing, a too passive continuance of attention, or 
a native sluggishness of habit, indulged, has a 
tendency to quell or prevent emotion, and to keep 
back its corporeal indications ; while the habitual 
and unrestrained play of imagination, or of feeling, 
impels to vivid expression in tone, and to the visi- 
ble manifestations of attitude and action. Hence 
the contrasts of manner exhibited in the delivery 
of the studious, the sedentary, or the phlegmatic, 
and that of the active, the gay, or the imagina- 
tive ; — both of which usually run to excess, produ- 
cing the morbid style of lifelessness and inaction, 
or the puerile manner of mere animal vivacity. 

Education, as the great agent in human improve- 
ment, aims not at a local, or particular, but an ideal 
and general excellence in man. Early culture, 
therefore, should be so directed as to free the 



PREFACE. y 

mental habits, and their external traces, from the 
injurious influences of imperfect or erroneous ex- 
ample, and to give the youthful powers that free 
and generous scope, which their full development 
requires. The standard of perfection in delivery, 
should be farmed on no views limited merely by 
the arbitrary customs of a community, — perhaps by 
the corrupting influence of neglect or perversion, 
as regards the discipline of imagination and taste. 
The genuine style of eloquence is that, surely, 
which gives the strongest, freest, and truest ex- 
pression to the natural blending of thought and 
emotion within the human breast ; — breaking 
through all arbitrary restraint, and submitting only 
to the guidance of reason, — or, rather, listening 
intuitively to its suggestions. 

The common errors of judgment and taste, on 
this subject, seem to lie in the supposition that 
thought and feeling may be separated in their 
expression. Every day furnishes examples of 
speakers, who, from the coldness of their manner, 
seem to think that they can succeed in imparting 
sentiment without emotion, — and of those, whose 
rhetorical and mechanical warmth appears to aim 
at eloquence by emotion not founded on thought, 

The tendency of deep interest, and of earnest, 
cordial emphasis, is always to impart impulse to 



10 PREFACE. 

the arm, as well as to the voice. The instruc- 
tion, therefore, or the example, which inculcates 
the suppression of gesture, is defective and injuri- 
ous ; as it checks the free action both of body 
and mind. The unlimited indulgence of fancy, or 
the ungoverned expression of feeling, on the other 
hand, leads either to a puerile or a merely pas- 
sionate manner, and loses the influence of intellect 
in a false excitement of emotion. 

A good delivery is that which, in the first place, 
may be briefly characterized by the epithet manly. 
It possesses force, — consequently exemption from 
all forms of weakness ; — freedom, (a natural con- 
sequence of force,) implying exemption from con- 
straint and embarrassment. These are the first 
and indispensable rudiments of action. Next in 
importance, is an appropriate or discriminating 
style, — the result of genius, or of successful dis- 
cipline, — which adapts itself to different occasions, 
subjects, and sentiments ; varying as circumstances 
require, and avoiding every impropriety of manner* 
whether arising from personal habit, or temporary 
inadvertency and error. Last in order, and as a 
negative quality, chiefly, may be mentioned grace, 
or those modes of action which obey nature's laws 
of symmetry and motion, from the intuitive per- 
ception of beauty, and the disciplined or natural 



PREFACE. 11 

subjection of the muscular system, to the ascend- 
ancy of mind and taste. 

These elementary principles are all that have 
been deemed important in the instruction attempt- 
ed in the following pages. All else, it is thought, 
may best be left to individual mind and manner, 
— which, if not perverted or neglected, would, 
perhaps, render direct instruction, in any case, 
comparatively unimportant. 

The effects of accomplished oratory are to be 
looked for from no single source : they are the 
fruits of the whole course of mental culture embra- 
ced in education. The end of this manual will 
have been fully accomplished, if teachers are ena- 
bled, by the use of it, to lay, in season, the founda- 
tion of habit; so as to preserve the delivery of 
their pupils from the prominent faults of uncultiva- 
ted or perverted taste. 

The rules and principles illustrated in the fol- 
lowing pages, are chiefly drawn from that rich and 
copious volume, Austin's Chironomia,* — but mod- 
ified as experience has suggested, and adapted to 
the details of practical instruction. 

* The above work on Gesture, and that of Dr. Rush on the 
Voice, afford the fullest instruction in Oratory, that has yet been 
presented in the English, if not in any other language. 



12 PREFACE. 

The Debate which forms the Appendix, is ex- 
tracted from the Elocutionist of Mr. James Sheri- 
dan Knowles, the author of Virginius. It has been 
annexed to the principles of gesture, stated in the 
body of the work, as furnishing appropriate mat- 
ter for the practical application of them, in the 
exercise of declamation. The animated style which 
pervades this debate, renders it a highly interest- 
ing and useful form of practice to young speakers. 

The Debate was originally prepared by Mr. 
Knowles, for the use of a juvenile class of his 
own pupils. A few passages, containing personal 
allusions, have, therefore, been omitted in the re- 
print, with the view of adapting it to the pur- 
poses of general practice. 




53 




RUDIMENTS OF GESTURE. 



The appropriate expression of sentiment implies, 
in addition to the exercise of voice, an effect produced 
on the corporeal frame, — an action which is the 
visible accompaniment of speech, and which affects, 
in particular, the features and the limbs, and, some- 
times, the whole body. This action is not arbitrary, 
but natural ; and its absence produces a cold, formal, 
rigid, or mechanical manner. Its first degree exists 
in the involuntary motion of the muscles of the face, 
in the change of the color of the countenance, and in 
the involuntary actions of starting and moving, which 
accompany various states of feeling. Its second de- 
gree is that in which we use gesture, in a manner 
more or less voluntary, as an additional expression 
of meaning, or feeling, imparted by the voice. 

Gesture is vivid and frequent in the expression of 
imaginative and excited states of mind. Hence it 
abounds in the period of childhood, and among na- 
tions much influenced by imagination, in the forma- 
tion of character. It differs in degree, for the same 
reason, in different individuals, according to their 
tendency to emotion and to imaginative expression, 
or the reverse. But it is natural, to some extent, to 
3 



26 ATTITUDE. 

all human beings, as the language of feeling. It is 
the necessary result of the connexion existing be- 
tween mind and body, and of their mutual sympa- 
thetic action. Of the necessity or of the value of 
gesture, indeed, it is hardly'necessary to speak. It is 
an aid and an impulse to the mind, both of the speaker 
and of his auditory ; and the question is not whether 
it should exist, but how it may be regulated so as to 
impart appropriate meaning and emotion, — how it 
may be called forth, when likely to be suppressed by 
embarrassment, or withheld by morbid apathy, or 
neglected through inattention, — how it may be guard- 
ed from excess or extravagance, or mechanical mo- 
notony, and acquire a mentarcharacter. 

INTRODUCTORY MOVEMENTS. 

Delivery consists of two parts ; — one addressing 
the ear, through the voice; and the other, the eye, 
by action or gesture. The latter implies a certain 
attitude of body, as essential to it ; and hence the 
necessity of attending, in the first instance, to the 
attitude or position in which the speaker presents 
himself to the eye. The characteristics of good 
attitude are firmness, freedom, appropriateness > and 
grace. 

It becomes necessary here to advert to the manner 
in which young speakers introduce themselves to 
their audience ; the introductory bow being seldom 
what it should be, a salutation of respect, actually 
addressed to the assembly, but commonly a very 
awkward attempt at a bow, and one so performed as 



INTRODUCTORY MOVEMENTS. 



27 



to cast down the eyes towards the floor of the room, 
or the feet of the speaker, and to show not his coun- 
tenance, but the crown of his head. A bow, or any- 
other mark of respect, (except prostration,) has no 
meaning in it, unless the eye of the individual who 
performs it is directed to the eyes of those to whom it 
is addressed. 

In figure 1, of the engraved illustrations, the round- 
ing of the shoulders, and the dangling or dropping 
of the arms, are added to the above fault. 

The opposite and somewhat comic effects of the 
fault of bending the body mechanically, drawing in. 
the elbows, and turning up the face, are represented 
in figure 2. 

The proper form of the bow, with its moderate 
curve, is illustrated in figure 3. 

The common faults of the bow and other prepara- 
tory movements, are feebleness^ constraint, embar- 
rassment, impropriety, and awkwardness* 

POSITION OF THE FEET.t 

General Remarks. It is of the utmost conse- 
quence to observe a correct position of the feet, not 

* In most dialogues, and in some very animated pieces of poetry, 
the commencing bow should be ommitted, as unfavorable to the full 
effect of the dramatic or poetic character of the delivery, which, in 
some instances, requires abruptness. 

t Much of the effect of gesture depends on the attitude in which 
it is performed, and from which it seems to spring. Attitude is, in 
fact, a preliminary to gesture, and as the character of attitude de- 
pends chiefly on the position of the feet : this last mentioned point be- 
comes the first in order, in practical lessons on gesture. 



28 ATTITUDE. 

merely because an incorrect position is ungraceful, 
but because the easy and natural movement of every 
part of the body depends on the feet being properly 
placed. Awkward and constrained movements of 
the feet, and rigid, unseemly action, are inseparable 
from a bad attitude. An easy and graceful position, 
on the contrary, favors appropriate and becoming 
movement, and tends to render it habitual. 

The following sentiments, quoted from Austin's 
Chironomia, may be serviceable in this place, as in- 
troductory to details. 

' The gracefulness of motion in the human frame, 
consists in the facility arm security with which it is 
executed ; and the grace of any position consists in 
the facility with which it can be varied. Hence, in 
the standing figure, the position is graceful when the 
weight of the body is principally supported on one 
leg, while the other is so placed as to be ready to re- 
lieve it promptly and without effort.' 'The foot 
which sustains the principal weight must be so 
placed, that a perpendicular line, let fall from the pit 
of the neck, shall pass through the heel of that foot. 
Of course, the centre of gravity of the body is, for the 
time, in that line ; whilst the other foot assists merely 
for the purpose of keeping the body balanced in the 
position, and of preventing it from tottering.' [See 
figs. 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th.] 

1 In the various positions of the feet, care is to be 
taken that the grace which is aimed at be attended 
with simplicity. The position of the orator is equally 
removed from the awkwardness of the rustic, with 
toes turned in, and knees bent, and from the affecta- 



POSITION OF THE FEET. 29 

tion of the dancing-master, whose position runs to 
the opposite extreme. The orator is to adopt such 
positions only as consist with manly and simple 
grace. The toes are to be moderately turned out- 
ward, but not to be constrained ; the limbs are to be 
disposed so as to support the body with ease, and to 
admit of flowing and graceful movement. The sus- 
taining foot is to be planted firmly ; the leg braced, 
but not contracted : the other foot and limb must 
press lightly, and be held relaxed, so as to be ready 
for immediate change and action.' 

' In changing the positions of the feet, the motions 
are to be made with the utmost simplicity, and free 
from the parade and sweep of dancing. The speaker 
must advance, retire, or change, almost impercepti- 
bly ; and it is to be particularly observed that changes 
should not be too frequent. Frequent change gives 
the idea of anxiety or instability, both of which are 
unfavorable. 

Errors. The common faults in the posi- 
tion of the feet, are, 

1st. That of resting on both feet equally } 
which gives the whole frame a set and rigid 
attitude. [See Figs. 4 and 5.] 

2. Pointing the toes straight forward, 
which, when combined with the preceding 
fault, forms the climax of awkwardness and 
squareness of attitude, and, even when unac- 
companied by any other error, has the bad 
effect of exposing the speaker's side, instead 
3* 



30 ATTITUDE* 

of his full front, and consequently assimila- 
ting all his movements and gestures to those 
of attack in fencing. [See Fig. 6.] 

3. Placing the feet too close to one another, 
which gives the whole body a feeble and con- 
strained appearance, and destroys the possi- 
bility of energy in gesture. [See Fig. 7.] 

4. The placing of the feet too widely distant, 
and parallel to each other, which gives the 
speaker's attitude a careless and slovenly air. 
[See Fig. 8.} 

5. The placing of the feet at too ivide a dis- 
tance from each other, but with the one in ad- 
vance of the other. This is the attitude of as- 
sumption, or of a boasting and overbearing 
manner. It would be appropriate in the swag- 
gering air of Pistol or of Captain Bobadil. It 
is only through gross inattention that it can 
be exhibited, as it notunfrequently is, on oc- 
casions of public declamation. [See Fig. 9.] 

Rule. The body should rest so fully on 
one foot, that the other could be raised, for a 
moment, without loss of balance ; the toes turn- 
ed outward ; the feet neither more nor less 
distant than a space equal to the broadest part 
of the foot; and the relative position of the 
feet such, that if two lines were drawn on 
the floor, under the middle of the sole of each 



THE FEET. 31 

foot, from the toes to the heel, the lines icould 
intersect each other under the middle of the 
heel of that foot which is placed behind the 
other. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] 

This general rule is applied in detail as follows. 
The recitation of poetry, as it gives scope to vivid 
expression, and sometimes requires actual delineation 
or personation, is not confined to any one, or even to 
a few, attitudes. The position of the feet, therefore, 
is various, as accommodated to the different passions 
or emotions introduced in the piece which is spoken. 
Declamation, or the delivery of common speeches in 
prose, does not admit of any degree of representation ; 
the attitude is that of self-possession, and of energetic 
or persuasive address ; and the positions of the feet 
are limited to the following : 

1. The first position of the right foot, — at the 
distance and in the relative situation mentioned be- 
fore; the right foot is planted firmly, and supports 
the weight of the body; the left touches the floor but 
slightly, rising a little at the heel.* [See Fig. 10.] 

2. The second position of the right foot keeps the 
same distance and relative situation of the feet as in 
the first, (except a slight outward inclination of the 
left heel, for firm and easy support.) The weight of 
the body, however, is on the left foot, which is, of 
course, firmly placed; while the right foot rests 

* This position is denominated the second, in the Chironomia. 
But as it is usually the first m the commencement of a speech, the 
natural order would seem to present it as the first in instruction 
and exercise. 



32 ATTITUDE. 

lightly on the floor, without rising from it. [See 
Fig. 11.] 

3. The first position of the left foot* is exactly as 
the first of the right ; — the left taking the place of the 
right, and the right that of the left. [See Fig. 12.] 

4. The second position of the left is the same, in 
all respects, as the second of the right; substituting 
the left for the right, and the right for the left. [See 
Fig. 13.] 

Note. — The observance of these different positions will produce 
a firm, easy, and graceful attitude, appropriate to earnest and natu- 
ral delivery. In complying with rules, however , there should be no 
anxiety about measured exactness, and no appearance of studied pre- 
cision. Force and freedom, and general propriety of manner, are 
the main points to be aimed at; grace is but a subordinate consid- 
eration ; and strict accuracy is apt to become but a mechanical ex- 
cellence. 

MOVEMENT OF THE FEET. 

Remarks. An occasional change of the position 
of the feet, is a natural and necessary relief to the 
speaker, in the delivery of a speech or piece of con- 
siderable length ; it associates, also, in an appropriate 
and agreeable manner, with the introduction of a 

* Attitude as affected by the advanced foot. The ancients restrict- 
ed their orators to the advance of the left foot. From this rule 
modern practice deviates entirely. The best speakers, though they 
occasionally advance the left foot, give the preference to the right, 
and adhere undeviatingly to the rule, that when the left hand is 
used in the principal gesture, the left foot must be advanced; and 
when the principal gesture is made with the right hand, that the 
right foot should be advanced, unless the use of the retired hand is 
very brief, and soon to give place to the advanced. 

Austin^ Chiron*. 



THE FEET. * 33 

new train of thought, or a new topic of discourse ; 
and it is the instinctive expression of energy, warmth, 
and liveliness of manner. Without movement, the 
speaker's body becomes, as it were, a mass of inani- 
mate matter. Motion, when carried to excess, how- 
ever, becomes childish in its effect, as it substitutes 
restlessness for animation. 

Errors. The principal errors in movement 
are, 

1. The pointing of the foot straight forward, 
and neglecting to turn the toes outward in 
advancing, by which the speaker's body is 
partly swung round, so as to expose the side, 
instead of the full front, and to produce the 
awkward position and gesture mentioned 
before, under the * second error ? in position. 
[See Fig. 6.] 

2. Moving sidelong, and, perhaps, with a 
sliding motion, instead of stepping freely for- 
ward. The whole manner of this change 
resembles that of a preparatory movement 
in dancing, but has no natural connexion 
with speaking. 

3. Advancing with a full walking step, ap- 
proaching nearly to a stride, and producing 
the swaggering gait mentioned in speaking 
of the c fifth error ' in position. 

4. A short, feeble, and shuffling step, as if 



34 MOVEMENT. 

the speaker were half resisting, and half 
yielding to, an external force applied to push 
him forward. 

5. A set and formal change of position, ren- 
dered very apparent, and wearing the air of 
artificial and studied manner. 

6. An ill-timed movement, not connected 
with the sense of what is spoken, but made 
at random. 

7. A motionless and lifeless posture, throw- 
ing a constrained and rigid, or very dull as- 
pect over the speaker's whole manner. 

8. An incessant and restless shifting of the 
feet, and perhaps a perpetual gliding from 

side to side, which is unavoidably associated 
with childishness of manner. 

Rule. The movement of the feet should 
always be performed with the toes turned out- 
ward, (pointing towards the corner of the 
room, nearly;) and the movement should be 
positively advancing or retiring, and not in- 
termediate, unless in actual dialogue, or when 
a single speaker personates two, in imagina- 
ry dialogue. The step should always be 
free, and should terminate with a firm plant- 
ing of the foot, but should never be wide : 
half a common walking step is sufficient for 
change in posture ; and, in changing position, 



THE FEET. 



35 



that foot which follows the other, should be 
preserved at its usual distance from it ; so 
that, when the step is finished, the feet are 
still found at their former distance, and not 
drawn close to each other, as sometimes in- 
advertently happens in shifting position. 

The motion of the feet should be carefully 
timed, so as to occur at the commencement 
of the parts or divisions of a speech or dis- 
course, at the introduction of new and dis- 
tinct thoughts, or in the expression of forcible 
or lively emotion. The true time of move- 
ment is in exact coincidence with emphasis, 
and falls appropriately on the accented syl- 
lable of the emphatic word. The voice and 
the bodily frame are thus kept in simulta- 
neous action with the mind. Movement, so 
performed, never obtrudes itself on the at- 
tention, but becomes a natural part of the 
whole delivery. The changes of position 
should always be made, (except only the 
retiring movement, at the close of a para- 
graph, or of a division of the subject,) during 
the act of speaking, and not at the pauses; 
and even the change of posture which neces- 
sarily follows the bow, and opens the delivery 
of the piece, should not be made before be- 
ginning to speak, but along with the utter- 



36 MOVEMENT. 

ance of the commencing clause. All changes 
made before speaking, or in the intervals of 
speech, become apparent and formal, and 
particularly all preparatory motions that 
seem to adjust or fix the attitude of the 
speaker, and produce the effect of suspend- 
ing the attention of the audience. The fre- 
quency of movement depends on the spirit 
of the composition. An animated address, or 
a declamatory harangue, requires frequent 
movement. In a grave discourse, on the 
contrary, the movements are made more sel- 
dom. Poetry requires, from its vividness of 
emotion, many changes of position ; prose, 
from its more equable character, compara- 
tively few. 

The changes of attitude, which occur in poetic 
recitation, are varied according to the kind of emo- 
tion expressed : those which generally occur in dec- 
lamation, or the delivery of speeches, are the ad- 
vancing, for the bolder or more earnest parts of an 
address ; and the retiring, for the more calm and 
deliberate passages. Pieces that do not commence 
with the manner of haughtiness or surprise, natural- 
ly begin with the first position of the right, as bring- 
ing the speaker near to his audience, to facilitate 
communication, or as expressing most naturally the 
emotion implied in the language. Pride, disdain, or 
scorn, and the manner of astonishment or wonder, 



THE FEET. 37 

if they occur in the opening of a speech, would in- 
cline more naturally to the second position ; as these 
feelings erect and incline backward the head and the 
whole frame of the speaker. Of the former style we 
should have an example in the opening of Mark 
Antony's funeral oration over the body of Caesar ; 

5 Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.' 

and of the latter, in the commencing strain of Cati- 
line's speech to the senate, after his sentence : 

1 Banish'd from Rome ! What 's banish'd, but set free 
From daily contact with the things I loathe 1 ' 

The advancing and the retiring movements, when 
considered in detail, are merely transitions from one 
to another of the positions of the feet, exemplified in 
the plates. They require attention chiefly to one 
point, — that every movement must be made by a 
change of the position of the foot which does not 
support the body. Confusion, in this respect, some- 
times costs the speaker a good many unnecessary 
motions, which are at variance with dignity and 
freedom of manner, and produce merely a vacillation 
about the feet, rather than an actual change of place 
or posture. To prevent such faults, it may be useful 
to advert to a mechanical view of the changes which 
take place in advancing or retiring. — 1st. Advanc- 
ing: To advance from the first position of the right 
foot* nothing is necessary but to pass directly, and 
without the intervention of any change, into the first 
of the left. Errors and hesitancy arise from throw- 
ing in some intervening movement. To advance 

* See engravings, figs. 10, 11, 12, 13. 

4 



38 MOVEMENT. 

from the first position of the left is, in like manner, 
nothing but a simple transition to the first position of 
the right. The advance from the second position of 
the right foot, is made simply by passing into the 
first position of the same foot ; and so of the corres- 
ponding change of the left. — 2d. Retiring : To re- 
tire from the first position of either foot, is merely 
to drop into the second of the same foot. To retire 
from the second position of either foot, seems a more 
complicated movement; but it is nothing more than 
to pass directly into the second position of the oppo- 
site foot.* 

POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE LEGS. 

Remarks. The general air and expression of 
the whole body depend much on the position of the 
legs ; as we may observe by adverting to the feeble 
limbs of infancy and of old age, the rigid and square 
attitude of men who follow laborious occupations, or 
the artificial display of limb sometimes acquired at 
the dancing-school, or exemplified on the stage. 

A firm, free, and graceful position of the limbs, is 
natural to most human beings, till the influence of 
awkward custom, or of imperfect health, has destroy- 
ed or impaired it. Correct and appropriate posture, 
therefore, becomes an important point in preparatory 
practice and training, intended to aid the formation 
of habits of rhetorical delivery. 

* These changes should be repeatedly practised by the learner, 
referring at the same time to the plates. 



THE LEGS. 39 

Errors in the position of the legs occur in 
the following forms : 

1. A rigid and inflexible posture, entirely 
at variance with freedom and grace ; causing 
the limbs to resemble supporting posts, rather 
than parts of the human frame ; and inter- 
fering with the force, ease, and gracefulness 
of gesture. This fault is partly caused by 
the wrong position and movement of the feet, 
mentioned first among the errors regarding 
the feet. [See Figs. 4, 5, 7.] 

2. A feeble, though perhaps slight bending 
of the knees, which gives the general atti- 
tude an appearance of timid inefficiency ; and 
which, when accompanied, as it often is, by 
a sinking and rising motion, seeming to keep 
time to the beat of the arm in gesture, pro- 
duces a childishness of mien, which throws 
over the speaker's whole delivery an air of 
silliness. [See Fig. 14.] 

3. A fault very prevalent in public decla- 
mation, arises from overlooking the fact, that 
a free and natural attitude requires the knee 
of the leg lohich is not supporting the xc eight 
of the body, to fall into the natural bend of 

freedom and rest. The neglect of this point, 
— a neglect which very naturally arises from 
general embarrassment or constraint, — has a 



40 MOVEMENT. 

very unfavorable effect on the whole attitude: 
in the c first' position, it causes, by its neces- 
sary action on the frame, a slight, but un- 
graceful throwing up of the shoulder, on the 
side which supports the body ; [See Fig. 15 ;] 
and in the ' second • position, it partly with- 
draws the speaker's body from his audience, 
by inclining it backward or too much upimrd, 
and by erecting the head in the manner of in- 
difference or disregard. [See Fig. 16.] 

The influence of this attitude is quite at variance 
with the speaker's aim in delivery, which is to con- 
vince or persuade ; the effect of which, on his atti- 
tude, would be to incline it somewhat forward, as in 
the natural manner of earnest address. No error, 
apparently so slight, is attended with so many bad 
consequences as this ; nothing tends so much to give 
the speaker the air of speaking at his audience, 
rather than to them ; yet no fault is more common 
in the declamation of school and college exhibitions. 
All that is objectionable in this attitude, however, 
would be done away, by the speaker merely allowing 
the knee of the leg which does not support the body, 
to drop into its natural bend. 

Other errors in the position of the legs, are involved 
in the faulty positions and movements of the feet ; 
such as the placing of the legs too close or too widely 
distant from each other. But whatever was men- 
tioned, on this point, concerning the feet, may be 
applied by the learner himself, to the placing of the 
limbs. [See Figs. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.] 



THE TRUNK. 41 

Rule. The leg tohich supports the body, 
should be firm and braced, but not strained; 
and the leg which does not support the body, 
should bend freely at the knee. [See Figs. 10, 
11, 12, 13.] 

POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE TRUNK. 

Remarks. The actions of a human being differ 
from the motions of a machine, chiefly in that sym- 
pathy of the entire frame, which makes action appear 
to proceed from the whole surface, and terminate in 
the arm, the hand,* or the foot. No gesture, therefore, 
seems to have life or energy, unless the whole body 
partake in it, by a moderate, yet perceptible swaying 
or yielding to accommodate it, and a general impulse 
of the muscles to enforce it, or impart to it additional 
and sympathetic energy. Gesture, destitute of such 
aid, becomes narrow, angular, and mechanical. It 
is of the utmost consequence, then, that the position 
and general bearing of the body should be free and 
unconstrained. 

The following observations are quoted from the 
work mentioned before,— Austin's Chironomia. 

'The trunk of the body is to be well balanced, 
and sustained erect upon the supporting limb. What- 
ever the speaker's position may be, he should present 
himself, as duintilian expresses it, cequo pectore — 
with the breast fully fronting his audience, — and 
never in the fencing attitude of one side exposed. 
What Cicero calls the virilis flexus laterum — the 
4* 



42 MOVEMENT. 

manly inclination of the sides, — should also be at- 
tended to ; for, without this position, the body will 
seem awkward and ill-balanced. The inclination of 
the sides withdraws the upper part of the body from 
the direction of the sustaining limb, and inclines it 
the other way, whilst it throws the lower part of the 
body strongly on the line of the supporting foot. In 
this position, the figure forms that gentle curve or 
waving line which painters and statuaries consider as 
appropriate to grace. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.} 

'The gesture of the arms and hands must receive 
a slight accompanying movement of the trunk, and 
not proceed from it as from a rigid log. Whilst care 
is taken to avoid affected and ridiculous contortions, 
there must be a manly and free exertion of the mus- 
cles of the whole body, the general consent of which, 
is indispensable to graceful action.' 

Errors. The faults in the management of 
the trunk, are the following : 

1. A rigid and square position , connected 
with, and in part proceeding from, errors in 
the position and movement of the feet and 
legs. [See ' Errors/ regarding these particu- 
lars, and Figs. 4 and 5 in the engravings, 
already referred to.] 

This position lacks the natural yielding or inclina- 
tion of the sides, and by destroying the sympathetic 
action of the muscles of the frame, seems to discon- 
nect the arm from the body, causing it to resemble 
an extraneous object accidentally fastened to the 



THE TRUNK. 43 

trunk, and producing, in the movements of the arm 
in gesture, the style of motion exemplified in the 
actions of an ill-contrived automaton, or in the 
moving of the handle of a pump. [See Fig. 4.] 

2. Exposing the side, somewhat as in a 
fencing posture. [See Fig. 6.] 

This attitude gives an unmeaning and offensive 
force to gestures made in front of the body, and com- 
municates an awkward and painful twist to all ges- 
tures which fall in an outward direction. The fault 
of position now alluded to, arises, sometimes, from the 
habit of addressing the different portions of an audi- 
ence separately, and by turns, which is itself a great 
impropriety, unless on special occasions requiring it. 
The error arises from the placing of the feet, and in 
the direction given to them in movement, — pointing 
the toes straight forward from the speaker's body, in 
the manner which would be exemplified in the 
natural attitude of an Indian. 

3. Allowing the body to incline too far for- 
ward] in a stooping or lounging manner. 

This fault takes away all manly dignity and energy 
from the speaker's appearance, and impairs the 
general effect of delivery. 

4. Keeping the body too erect, and inclining 
it away from the audience. 

The bad effects of this fault were described in con- 
nexion with the %third ' error in the position of the 
legs. [See Fig. 16.] 



44 



MOVEMENT. 



5. A theatrical protruding of the body, with 
the air of display. [See Fig. 17.] 

This fault coincides, in most instances, with the 
wide position of the feet formerly objected to, as pro- 
ducing an overbearing and swaggering mien. 

6. A leaning over to the side on which ges- 
ture is made. 

This fault presents the speaker very awkwardly to 
the eye, — somewhat in the manner of figures in the 
drawings of young children who have not yet ac- 
quired a perfect idea of a perpendicular line, and 
who represent all objects in a picture as if in the act 
of falling. The apparent want of security and firm- 
ness in this attitude, enfeebles to the eye every action 
of the speaker^ arm. [See Fig. 18.] 

Rule. The trunk, or main part of the 
body, should always be in a firm, but free 
and graceful posture, exposing the full front, 
and not the side ; avoiding equally rigidity 
and display, and yielding to every impulse 
of gesture. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] 

POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE HEAD AND 
THE COUNTENANCE. 

Remarks. The bearing of the head decides the 
general mien of the body, as haughty and conde- 
scending, as spiritless, dejected, embarrassed, — or as 



THE HEAD. 45 

free from the influence of such feelings, and wearing 
an easy, self-possessed, and unassuming expression, 
arising from tranquillity and serenity of mind. The 
first-mentioned of these states of feeling inclines the 
head upward; the second causes it to drop, or keeps 
it fixed by constraint ; the last preserves it from these 
extremes, and allows it an easy and natural motion. 
The recitation of poetry may, in particular instances, 
authorize or require a very erect, or a drooping pos- 
ture of the head; but declamation, or public speaking, 
implies a state of self-command, a rational consider- 
ation of effect, and an avoiding of the appearances 
of extreme emotion. In the latter exercise, therefore, 
the general air of the head bespeaks respect for the 
audience, mingling with a just self-respect, and 
avoids alike a lofty or a submissive carriage. The 
eyes and the other features correspond to this manner. 

Errors in the position of the head are as 
follows : 

1. A distant and lofty, or indifferent air, 
throwing back the head, or carrying it too 
erect. [See Fig. 16.] 

This fault is generally unintentional, and arises, 
in many instances, from an error in the posture of 
the limbs, as mentioned before. 

2. A bashful drooping of the head, accom- 
panied with downcast eyes. 

This manner takes away the effect of delivery. 
As the mind always appears to follow the eye, the 



46 MOVEMENT. 

speaker's attention seems not to be directed to his 
audience. 

3. The head remaining fixed and still, un- 
der the influence of embarrassment and con- 
straint. 

This fault is much aggravated, if attended, as it 
usually is, by a vague wandering, or a motionless 
abstraction of the eye, and, perhaps, an occasional 
working of the eye-brows. The effect of these 
manifestations of uneasiness is, of course, very un- 
favorable to the influence of the speaker's delivery. 

4. An objectionable movement of the muscles 
of the countenance. 

This fault sometimes assumes the form of an un- 
meaning smile, or an equally unmeaning frown; 
sometimes, of too much excited play of the features, 
with an incessant and inappropriate turning or 
staring of the eyes ; and sometimes, in vehement 
declamation, an ungraceful protrusion of the lips. 

Rule. The head should neither be hung 
bashfully down, nor carried haughtily erect: 
it should turn easily but not rapidly, from side 
to side; the eyes being directed generally 
to those of the persons who are addressed, 
but not fastening particularly on individuals. 
The abstraction of the mind, implied in the 
appropriate recitation of some pieces in po- 



GESTURE. 47 

etry, may, however, render it inconsistent to 
give to delivery the air of address ; as, for 
example, in the reciting of any passage in 
which a distant or imaginary scene is called 
up vividly to the thoughts. The eyes should, 
in such cases, be directed away from those of 
the audience, and be fixed on vacancy. All 
inappropriate and ungraceful play or working 
of the features, should be carefully avoided. 

GESTURE. 
POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE HAND. 

Remarks. The hand is, in most forms of action, 
the great organ of the mind. Its power of expres- 
sion in communication, when used alone, or accom- 
panied by speech, is peculiar and extensive. The 
position or action of the hand invites, repels, refuses, 
rejects, implores, or threatens, more forcibly than 
even the voice or the countenance. The language 
and meaning of gesture lie in the hand ; and these 
cannot be expressed without an appropriate use of 
this organ. The arm is, in gesture, but the inferior 
agent to move and exert the hand, the great instru- 
ment of all expression addressed to the eye. The 
tones of the voice, and the action of the features are, 
no doubt, the chief vehicles of meaning. But next 
to these comes the hand, as an important agent in 
delivery; and, in some kinds of emotion, it even 
takes the precedence of the voice : — in all those pas- 



48 GESTURE. 

sions, for instance, which by their excess tend to 
render the tongue mute. In unimpassioned speaking, 
the gesture of the hand is not so prominent ; but it 
still serves a useful purpose in accompanying, aid- 
ing, and enforcing the impressions produced by the 
voice. It helps to concentrate the action of the 
senses towards the objects which are presented to 
the mind, and, though a subordinate, is yet an indis- 
pensable, instrument of appropriate and impressive 
delivery. 

Errors. The chief faults in the position 
of the hand, are, 

1 . A feeble gathering in of the fingers to- 
wards the palm. [See Fig. 19.] 

The proper use of the hand is thus lost. As the 
fingers are bent in, in this position, they hide the 
palm, — a part which bears the same reference to the 
use of the hand in gesture, that the countenance 
does to the head. Without the exhibition of the 
features, there can be no meaning gathered from the 
view of the head ; so without the exposure of the 
palm, there is no expression in the hand. The open 
hand is essential to most gestures, on the principle 
that such a position, and no other, harmonizes with 
the idea of communication. The error now object- 
ed to will appear in its true light, if we advert to the 
difference between the acts of giving and receiving, 
as they influence the position of the hand. Suppose, 
for a moment, the case of two persons in the atti- 
tudes relatively, of giving and receiving alms. The 



THE HAND. 49 

individual who receives the gift, holds his hand in a 
hollow position, for the sake of receiving and retain- 
ing what is bestowed, while the individual who be- 
stows, necessarily opens the hand, to convey to that 
of the other the gift which is conferred. The posi- 
tion, in the former case, which is nearly that now 
mentioned as a fault, is that of reception, and cannot 
be appropriate in delivery, which is an act of com- 
munication or of transferring. The hand partly 
closed has no speaking expression to the eye : to 
produce this effect, it must be opened fully and freely. 
[See Fig. 20.] 

2. A fiat and square position of the hand, 
with the fingers straight and close. [See 
Figs. 21, and 22.] 

This position has to the eye the effect of the me- 
chanical placing of a piece of board, rather than the 
appropriate appearance of a human hand, — from 
which the idea of pliancy can never be naturally 
separated. The awkward air of this position is 
much increased, if the thumb is placed close to the 
fingers. [See Fig. 22.] The want of separation in 
the placing of the fingers, has an influence nearly as 
unfavorable as that of allowing the hand to be partly 
closed. 

3. A half pointing position of the fingers, 
which' has neither the definiteness of point- 
ing, nor the speaking expression of the open 
hand. [See Fig. 23.] 

5 



50 GESTURE. 

This fault savors of studied and artificial grace, 
whilst every point of detail in gesture should be 
characterised by a natural and manly freedom. 

4. An Indefinite spreading of the fingers, 
which lacks energy and expression. [See 
Fig. 24.] 

This style of position has, unavoidably, a vague and 
feeble character, which impairs the effect of gesture, 
and seems to take away the expression of life from 
the hand. 

5. A displayed position of the fingers, dif- 
fering from the correct position, by inclining 
the little finger outward and downward, in- 
stead of inward ; and parting it too widely 
from the other fingers. [See Fig. 25.] 

This position seems studied, finical, and affected; 
it produces the effect of caricature, and, from its 
mincing style, is unavoidably associated with feeble- 
ness. 

6. Too frequent use of the repressing ges- 
ture which turns the palm downward. [See 
Fig. 26.] 

This gesture is appropriate in particular descriptive 
passages of poetry, but is unsuitable for prose, unless 
in a highly imaginative style. 

7. Too frequent use of the pointing gesture, 



THE HAND. 51 

which gives an unnecessary peculiarity and 
emphasis to manner. 

This position of the hand is appropriate and ex- 
pressive in particular allusions and emphatic descrip- 
tions. But its propriety in such circumstances, sug- 
gests equally its unsuitableness for a prevailing 
gesture. There are three faults very common in the 
manner of pointing ; all of which render the fre- 
quency of the gesture more striking and disagreeable. 
The Jirst of these is the gathering up, and pressing 
tight with the thumb, all the fingers but the one 
which points ; and the pointing finger projected 
perfectly straight. There is a rigidness of expres- 
sion in this style, which is unfavorable in its effect 
on the eye. [See Fig. 27.] The second fault is the 
opposite one, of all the fingers bending feebly inward, 
and the thumb scarcely, if at all, touching them ; 
the fore-finger not projecting sufficiently to suit the 
purpose of pointing. [See Fig. 28.] The third 
fault is that of letting the hand droop from the wrist 
downward ; the fingers generally, and the thumb 
spreading to a great distance, and the fore-finger 
rising at the middle. [See Fig. 29.] 

8. Placing the hand edgeways, with the 
fingers straight and close. [See Fig. 30.] 

The motion produced in consequence of this posi- 
tion, is like that of an instrument for cutting, but 
possesses none of the appropriate effects of delivery. 

9. Clenching the hand, in the expression 
of great energy. [See Fig. 31.] 



52 GESTURE. 

This form of action may be natural and appropri- 
ate in the intense excitement produced by some of 
the boldest flights of poetry, in which the presence of 
others is forgotten by the speaker, when he becomes 
entirely rapt in an imaginary scene of vehement 
passion. But it is utterly inappropriate in public 
discourse or address, which always implies the 
speaker's consciousness of his auditory ; a just re- 
spect to whom should forbid all indecorous action, 
all approach to bullying attitudes, and, on the same 
general principle, all extravagant expressions of ex- 
citement. 

Rule. The position of the hand in the re- 
citation of poetry, depends on the emotion 
which is expressed in the language of the 
piece ; and the intensity of feeling which is 
peculiar to poetry gives rise to varied attitude 
and action, and, consequently; to various 
positions, of the hand. But in declamation, 
or speaking in the form of address, variety is 
not generally so important to the effect of 
delivery. Energy and propriety become, in 
such exercises, the chief objects of attention ; 
and although there are some prose pieces en- 
tirely imaginative or romantic in character, 
and occasional passages in most speeches 
which produce a strong emotion, yet the 
general style of a public address may be 
considered as differing widely from the man- 



THE HAND. 53 

ner of poetic excitement, and inclining to the 
plainer forms of gesture, and consequently 
to the ordinary positions of the hand, when 
used for enforcing sentiment, rather than for 
expressing effects produced on the imagina- 
tion. Pointing, and other varieties of gesture, 
may be occasionally proper in declamation ; 
but the prevailing action should be that of 
earnest assertion and persuasive appeal, 
which are expressed with the open hand. 

The appropriate position of the hand, for 
the common purposes of speaking, implies 
that it is fully open, with an expression com- 
bining firmness, freedom, and grace; the 
palm sloping moderately from the wrist 
towards the fingers, and from the thumb to- 
wards the fourth or little finger ; — avoiding 
thus the flat position mentioned among the 
errors on this point ; the thumb freely part- 
ed from the fingers, but not strained ; the 
fore-finger nearly straight, and moderately 
parted from the other fingers ; the two fingers 
in the middle of the hand, close together, 
and inclining somewhat inward ; the fourth 
finger parted at some distance from the 
others, and inclining more inwardly than 
any. [See Fig. 32.] 

This position of the hand, when minutely analysed, 



54 GESTURE, 

may, at first view, seem complex and comparatively 
difficult ; but the difficulty is more apparent than 
real ; for it is the natural posture of the hand, in 
reference to the common and habitual actions of life ; 
the fore-finger inclining to a straighter and firmer 
position than the other fingers, because more con- 
stantly in exercise, and therefore rendered more rigid ; 
the second and third fingers inclining somewhat in- 
ward, as not possessing the force and firmness of the 
fore-finger, and keeping close together, as they 
naturally do in the common actions of grasping, lift- 
ing, &c; and the fourth finger inclining more in- 
wardly than any, because the feeblest of the fingers. 
The parting of the fore-finger and the little finger 
from the rest, is essential to the idea of the hand pre- 
sented fully and freely open.* 

The embarrassment which young learners some- 
times feel in attempting a correct position Lof the 
hand, is partly owing to previous fixed habit, and 
partly to the slight difficulty of attending separately 
to the position of each finger, a difficulty exemplified 
when we try to do, at the same moment, a different 
action with each hand. A little practice and atten- 
tion are for the most part sufficient to obviate the 
difficulty alluded to. But if, in any instance, it 
should prove insuperable, the simple position of the 
open hand may be substituted ; avoiding only the 
flat posture, and the thumb close to the fingers. 

* One of the happiest illustrations of this natural point of pro- 
priety in taste, occurs in West's celebrated picture, ' Christ re- 
jected,' and may be traced in nearly every figure of that great 
production. 



THE ARM. 55 



POSITION AND MOVEMENT OF THE ARM. 

Remarks. The freedom and force of gesture de- 
pend entirely on the appropriate action of the arm. 
The free play of the arm gives scope to gesture, 
which would otherwise be narrow, confined, and in- 
expressive. The elevated thoughts and grand images 
abounding in poetry, require a free, lofty, and en- 
ergetic sweep of the arm in gesture ; but speaking" 
which has persuasion for its object, is naturally 
characterised by a less commanding and less imagin- 
ative style of action. Reasoning, arguing, or inculcat- 
ing, in the usual manner of speech, requires chiefly 
enforcing or emphatic gesture. Poetry abounds so 
in variety of emotion, that the action which accom- 
panies the recitation of it, is frequent and forcible, 
and marked by vivid transitions, with a predomi- 
nance of gracefulness in the whole manner. The 
style of speaking adapted to prose, is more calm and 
moderate, and more plain in its character : coinciding 
thus with the tenor of thought and language which 
usually pervades prose composition. 

Action is the first, the simplest, and the most strik- 
ing expression of feeling. It cannot, therefore, be 
dispensed with, but at the risk of losing the natural 
animation of manner. Under the regulation of taste, 
it becomes a harmonious and powerful accompani- 
ment to speech, imparting additional force to lan- 
guage in all its forms, and aiding a full and clear 
conception of what is expressed. Gesture is not a 
mere matter of ornament, as it sometimes is supposed. 



56 GESTURE. 

Its main object is force of impression : the beauty or 
grace which it imparts to delivery is but an inferior 
consideration. To the young learner, however, 
whose habits are yet forming, the cultivation of cor- 
rect and refined taste in regard to gesture, is a matter 
of great importance ; and several of the following 
errors are mentioned as such, with a view to this 
consideration. 

Errors. The leading faults in the man- 
agement of the arm are the following : 

1. A feeble and imperfect raising or fall- 
ing of the arm, and the allowing it to sink 
into an angle at the elbow. [See Figs. 6, 8, 
and others in which the elbow is angular.] 

This style of gesture has several bad effects, be- 
sides its angular form, which is objectionable to the 
eye, as associated with mechanical motion and pos- 
ture, rather than those of an animated being. It 
narrows and confines every movement of the arm, 
and prevents the possibility of free and forcible 
action, which can flow only from the whole arm 
fully, though gracefully, extended. 

2. The opposite fault is that of an irregu- 
lar force which throws out the arm perfectly 
straight and rigid. [See Fig. 4.] 

This position of the arm has also an objectionable 
and mechanical aspect, at variance with the idea of 
a natural use of the human frame and its limbs. 



COMMON FAULTS. 57 

3. The habitual performing of gesture in 
a line from the speaker's side. 

An occasional gesture of this sort may be proper ; 
but a constant use of it gives either a feeble or an 
ostentatious air to delivery, as the gesture happens to 
be made with more or less energy. 

4. A horizontal swing of the arm, used in- 
variably. 

This action expresses negation appropriately, and 
may be occasionally employed for other purposes; 
but it lacks force for energy and emphasis, and if 
habitually used to the exclusion of other gestures, it 
renders the speaker's manner tame and ineffective. 

5. A want of distinction in the use of ges- 
ture, in regard to the lines in which it termi- 
nates, the space through which it passes, and 
the direction in which it moves. 

This indiscriminate use of gesture interferes, of 
course, with its appropriate expression ; substituting 
one style of action for another, and serving, some- 
times, no other purpose than to manifest the anima- 
tion of the speaker, instead of imparting energy to 
meaning or emotion. [See Rule 2, for distinction 
of gesture.] 

6. The improper use of a poetic or roman- 
tic style of gesture, in the delivery of a prose 
speech or discourse. [See Rule 2.] 



58 GESTURE. 

This style is as inappropriate as would be the 
reading of prose with the tones of poetry, and sacri- 
fices the manly efFect of simplicity and directness, 
for a false excitement of fancy. 

7. A florid redundancy of gesture, produc- 
ing incessant action and change of posture. 

The effect of this fault is to impart a restless, un- 
meaning, and puerile activity of manner, which is 
inconsistent with deep feeling or grave thought. 

8. The opposite error is that of standing 
motionless and statue-like, in every limb. 

This fault gives a dull, heavy, and morbid air to 
delivery, and deprives the train of thought expressed 
in the composition, of its natural efFect on the mind. 
A clear perception of meaning, or a true interest in 
the subject of what is spoken, is justly expected to 
awaken the intellect of the speaker, and animate him 
to activity of feeling. 

9. The fault of an arbitrary and studied 
variety of action. 

To avoid deadness and monotony it is not neces- 
sary to assume any emotion not authorized by the 
sense of what is uttered. Variety of style is not 
always called for, as we may observe in the appro- 
priate delivery of a long strain of vehement invective, 
in which the chief expression is that of reiterated 
force; or as we may observe in a connected train of 
calm thought or reasoning on a single point. The 



COMMON FAULTS. 59 

author of the composition is on all occasions ac- 
countable for the transitions of feeling; and the 
speaker is at fault only when he obviously omits 
their expression. A continuance of moderate and 
gentle action in persuasion, forms, sometimes, the 
very eloquence of delivery. All action, which does 
not spring directly from emotion expressed in the 
piece which is spoken, is unnatural and offensive ; 
and the more sprightly and varied its character, the 
worse is its effect. 

10. The opposite error is that of using but 
one or two gestures, which perpetually recur 
in all pieces, and in all passages, how differ- 
ent soever their style and expression may 
naturally be. 

There is a dryness and inappropriateness about 
this manner, which always renders it mechanical 
and wearisome, and sometimes absurd in its applica- 
tion to sense. 

11. Gestures performed in a manner which 
is regulated by their supposed gracefulness, 
rather than their connexion with meaning. 

Grace is a negative rather than a positive quality 
of gesture; its proper effect is to regulate, chasten, 
and refine. Action, if just, is called for from other 
considerations than those of beauty or ornament — - 
from the natural demands of forcible and warm 
emotion : it does not suggest or create a single move- 
ment which would not otherwise exist. The action 



60 GESTURE. 

which energy has elicited, grace is to preserve from 
awkwardness. Beyond this point, true grace ceases 
to exist. 

12. The most childish of all faults is that 
of imitative gesture, in which the speaker 
represents objects or actions by pantomimic 
motions. 

The distinct and vivid conceptions produced by 
the recitation of poetry, may sometimes identify the 
imagination of the speaker so entirely with the forms 
which the poet has called up to the mind, that the 
action of sympathy passes into that of assimilation ; 
and, in lively and humorous emotion, actual imita- 
tion, judiciously indulged, is natural and appropriate. 
But not so in prose addresses, on serious occasions, 
which imply a full self-possession and a becoming 
dignity on the part of the speaker, with a constant 
regard to his audience. Imitative action in such 
circumstances is still more trivial, indecorous, or 
absurd than it would be in private conversation. 

13. The want of the observance of time in 
gesture, which seems to disjoint the action, 
and separate it from the expression of the 
voice. 

A gesture made before or after the emphatic word 
to which it naturally belongs, is entirely out of place. 
The moment when a given action must come to its 
acme, or to its closing 'movement, is precisely that 
of littering the accented syllable of the emphatic 
word. The impulse given to the frame by the ener- 



COMMON FAULTS. 61 

gy of emphasis, being exactly at this point, whatever 
motion of the arm is to accompany it, must fall, (if 
performed naturally,) in strict coincidence with it. 
Hence the necessity of timing the preparatory 
movement of gesture so that the action of the arm 
shall neither outstrip nor lag behind the prominent 
force of voice. 

14. The neglect of the preparatory move- 
ment of gesture , by which action is rendered 
either too abrupt or too confined. 

Every rhetorical action consists of two parts, a 
preparatory and a terminating movement. A gesture 
performed by the human arm must necessarily be so 
far complex ; as the hand cannot, with propriety of 
effect, or even with ease, spring at once to a given 
point. A deliberate and dignified manner of action, 
derives much of its character from the accommoda- 
tion of this preparatory motion to time and space ; 
performing it with due slowness ; avoiding hurry or 
jerking quickness ; allowing it also free scope for the 
natural and unconstrained play of the arm, and, 
sometimes for the appropriate sweep of the style of 
gesture. Quick, narrow, and angular movements 
render action mechanical and ineffective. This re- 
sult usually takes place in consequence of delaying 
gesture, till the emphasis occurring leaves no ade- 
quate time for forming a full gesture : a brief, hasty, 
and very limited movement is accordingly produced, 
in the manner that would necessarily exist if the 
arm were repressed by material obstacles. This 
fault sometimes arises, however, from the opposite 
6 



62 



GESTURE. 



error of anticipating the gesture, and commencing 
and finishing the preparatory movement too soon ; 
the arm remaining in suspense for the occurrence of 
the appropriate word, and then suddenly dropping 
into the gesture. 

15. Using, with unnecessary frequency ,the 
gesture of the left hand, and, sometimes, in 
alternation with that of the right. 

The left hand may be used exclusively, if the per- 
son or persons addressed are situated on the left of 
the speaker ; as by one of the speakers in a dialogue, 
or in an address which is so composed as to be di- 
rected to different portions or divisions of an audience, 
separately, as in the opening and closing addresses 
at an exhibition. The occasional use of the left 
hand in the delivery of a long speech, is a natural 
and agreeable change, in passing to a new topic of 
discourse, or entering on a new strain of emotion in 
recitation. [See Figs. 12, 13, 45, 49, 53.] But too 
frequent recourse to it, or to use it in the early part 
of an address, destroys its good effect; and to use it 
in an alternate and antithetic manner to correspond 
to the action of the right hand, has a studied and 
mechanical air of precision, unfavorable to the 
general style of delivery. 

16. Too frequent use of both hands in the 
same form of gesture. 

The occasional use of both hands in warm and 
earnest appeal, in the expression of thoughts of vast 
extent, or in the intensity of poetic emotion, is fa- 



COMMON FAULTS. 63 

vorable in its effect. [See Figs. 46, 50, 54.] But it 
should be reserved for such circumstances in delivery, 
and not introduced at random, or for imaginary 
variety. 

17. Making gestures occasionally, and hy 
fits ; the hand dropping, at every interval of 
a few moments, to the side, and then rising 
anew to recommence action. 

The dropping of the hand has properly a meaning 
attached to it, as much as any other action used in 
speaking. It ought to indicate a long pause, and 
a temporary cessation of speech, as at the close of a 
paragraph or of a division of a subject ; or it may be 
used in recitation to denote grief, or any state of mind 
which quells the expression of gesture, or which for 
a time overpowers the feelings, and suspends the 
utterance. Generally, the hand should not drop at 
the conclusion of a gesture, but should either re- 
main for a few moments suspended, in the position 
in which the last gesture closed, or pass into the pre- 
paration for a gesture following. The use of the 
suspended hand appears natural and expressive, if 
we advert to its effect in conversation, or in appeal 
and argument. Gesture becomes, in this way, easy 
and unobtrusive, and ceases to attract the eye un- 
necessarily ; while the perpetual rising and falling of 
the hand in the irregular manner above alluded to, 
makes gesture unnecessarily conspicuous, and gives 
it an air of formality and parade. 

The abrupt discontinuance of gesture by tioitching 
back the hand } somewhat in the manner of sudden 



64 



GESTURE. 



alarm, has a very bad effect ; yet it is a fault to 
which young speakers are very prone from their em- 
barrassment of feeling. 

An upward or inward rebound of the hand, after 
the termination of the gesture itself, is often added 
to the frequent return of the hand to the side. 
Dropping the hand heavily, and allowing it to shut 
as it drops, is another fault of this class. The 
speaker's action is apt in consequence of such ges- 
tures to become a succession of flourishes of defiance, 
rather than of persuasive movements. 

18. Using gesture without regard to the char- 
acter of the piece which is spoken, as plain or 
figurative, moderate or impassioned in style. 

A figurative style of language forms at once an ex- 
pression and an excitement of imagination, — or the 
active states of thought and feeling combined. It 
implies, therefore, a full activity of manner in the 
speaker. The intense action of mind influences by 
sympathy the corporeal frame, and impels to gesture; 
and the absence of action, in such circumstances, 
creates an unnatural disruption or separation of the 
mutual influences of mind and body. 

Narration and description in plain style, however, 
make no demand for gesture, in circumstances of ex- 
cited feeling, arising from other causes than those 
whicbexist in the language uttered at the moment, 
— a case which would be exemplified in the state- 
ment of a fact connected, but not immediately, with 
an injury or grievance, or in the commencement of a 
narration which is to terminate tragically, or in the 
description of the scene of a remarkable event. 



COMMON FAULTS. 65 

Neither does common definition, statement, or ex- 
planation, or unimpassioned discussion call for ges- 
ture, unless in very moderate forms, and at intervals. 
Whatever is addressed purely to the understanding 
can derive little aid from rhetorical action. Feeling 
and imagination are the great springs of gesture ; and 
without these to impel it, it becomes lifeless and me- 
chanical. 

19. Placing the hand upon the heart irregu- 
larly r , without attention to the nature of the 
feeling, or the circumstances of speech under 
which this action is appropriate. 

This gesture is applicable chiefly to the personal 
feelings of the speaker ; and, in a very vivid style of 
description, as in the recitation of poetry, it may be 
used in allusion to deep internal feeling, contrasted 
with that which is produced by external causes. 
Thus, it may appropriately occur in the second of 
the following lines : 

* Slight are the outward signs of evil thought ; 
Within, — within ; 't was there the spirit wrought.' 

But, generally, this form of action is erroneously 
applied to all cases of inward emotion, and sometimes 
even to the bare mention of the mind and heart, in 
contradistinction from the body. 

The errors in the mode of making this gesture are 
very numerous. 1st. Placing the hand on the pit 
of the stomach, instead of on the breast. [See Fig. 
33.] 2d. Bringing the hand round towards the left 
side. [See Fig. 34.] 3d. Elevating the elbow as in 
the manner of playing on the violin. [See Fig. 35.1 
6* 



66 GESTURE. 

4th. Hugging the body with the whole arm. [See 
Fig. 36.] 5th. Touching the breast with the thumb, 
in the manner of familiar and humorous representa- 
tion. [See Fig. 37.] 6. Pressing the tips of the 
fingers against the heart. [See Fig. 38.] 

20. Making gesture across the speaker's body. 

This fault takes place in dialogue, when one 
speaker employs the hand which is farthest from 
the other speaker, instead of using that which is 
nearest to him. An awkward and feeble sort of 
gesture is thus produced ; or the speaker is compelled, 
irr using it, to turn his side to the audience, which 
destroys the effect of dialogue, by hindering the full 
view of the persons and countenances of the speakers. 
[See Fig. 39.*] 

When this fault occurs in single declamation, it 
has a very objectionable air of display and assump- 
tion, in its upward lines, and a want of speaking 
effect, in its lower movements. [See Figs. 41, and 42.] 

21. An inward siceep of gesture, instead of 
an outward, downward, or upward movement. 

This fault has a left-handed air, which borders on 
the ridiculous, and adds no force to delivery. 

22. Involuntary and inadvertent gestures^ 
arising from embarrassment and confusion. 

Faults of this class are too numerous and varied 
to admit of description in an elementary book. The 
principal are a Hoisting- and working of the fingers, 

* The correct position for dialogue is exemplified in figure 40. 



GENERAL RULES. 67 

a dangling of the hand, an unintentional clenching 
of it, or thrusting it into the pocket, or resting it on 
the side, a sympathetic motion of the unemployed 
hand, in imitation, as it were, of the gestures made 
by the other hand. 

Rule I. The arm when not employed in 
preparing for the terminating act of gesture, 
should never exhibit an angle at the elbow, but 
be always freely extended, yet without the 
rigidness of a straight line ; a moderate sink- 
ing of the elbow being requisite to freedom 
and grace. [See Figs. 10, 11, 12, 13.] 

II. The various emotions of poetic recita- 
tion produce a great variety of action. But 
the usual manner of delivery in a speech or 
discourse, is naturally more restricted, as 
conversant with a less vivid state of feeling. 

The following are the principal gestures 
appropriate in address : 

1. The descending,* used with great energy in 
strong assertion and vehement argumentation, in em- 
phatic declaration and forcible appeal. [See Figs. 43, 
44, 45, 46.] 

2. The horizontal* (the hand rising to a horizon- 
tal level with the shoulder,) appropriate in elevated 
and general thought or description, and in geograph- 
ical and historical allusions. [See Figs. 47, 48, 49, 50.] 

3. The ascending,* (the hand rising to a level, 

* These designations arise from the position in which the gesture 
terminates, as may be seen by the plates. 



68 GESTURE. 

nearly, with the head,) expressive of sublimity of 
thought or feeling. [See Figs. 51, 52, 53, 54.] 

From these three principal lines of gesture arise 
three others : 

1. The gesture in front* appropriately used in 
strong or emphatic statements, and terminating in 
the descending, horizontal, or ascending lines, accord- 
ing to the character of the thought and the language. 
[See Figs. 43, 47, 51.] 

2. The gesture oblique* falling in an intermedi- 
ate line between one drawn in front of the speaker's 
body and one drawn from his side. This gesture is 
one of general character, having neither the force of 
the preceding one, nor the peculiarity of that which 
follows, and terminating upward, downward, or 
horizontally, according to the nature of the senti- 
ment expressed. [See Figs. 44, 48, 52.] 

3. The gesture extended* (falling in a line with 
the side,) appropriate in the expression of ideas of 
extent and space, or forming the terminating point 
to a wave or sweep of gesture in negation, rejection, 
&c, and closing in an upward or downward position 
as before. [See Figs. 45, 49, 53.] 

Hence arise the following combinations and 
changes of gesture: 'Descending' 'in front.' [See 
Fig. 43.] ' Descending ' ' oblique.' [See Figs. 44 and 
46.] ' Descending' 'extended.' [See Fig. 45.] 'Hori- 
zontal 5 'in front.' [See Fig. 47.] 'Horizontal,' 'ob- 
lique.' [See Figs. 48 and 50.] ' Horizontal,' ' ex- 
tended.' [See Fig. 49.] 'Ascending' 'in front.' 

* These designations refer to the person and attitude of the. 
speaker. 



GENERAL RULES. 69 

[See Fig. 51.] ! Ascending' f oblique.' [See Fig. 52.] 
f Ascending 5 ' extended.' [See Figs. 53 and 54] 
Each of these forms of gesture has a peculiar char- 
acter, fixed and modified by the lines explained 
above. See i descending,' i horizontal,' fyc. 

Note. There are occasionally gestures which fall in a line in- 
ward from that { in front,' as in the slight gestures which take place 
in reading; and outivard from the line c extended,' as in alluding to 
any thing very remote in time or place. But these seldom occur. 

A discriminating and correct use of these different 
classes of gesture, is the only proper source of varie- 
ty in action, 

III. The movement or sweep of the arm, 
in preparing for gesture, should always be 
free and graceful, but avoiding too much ex- 
tent of space, and performed in strict time icith 
the movement of the voice in utterance. The 
line of motion in gesture describes a curve, 
and avoids in all action but that of the humor- 
ous style, — a confined or angular movement. 

The curve here spoken of would be exemplified 
in passing from the gesture l descending 5 J in front 5 
to that which is denominated \ descending 5 i oblique. 5 
To make this transition, the whole arm rises mode- 
rately, contracting slightly at the elbow, and the 
hand approaching a little nearer to the upper part of 
the speakers body, but not drawn up towards the 
face, as often happens in incorrect style : the hand 
and arm having thus finished the preparatory move- 



70 GESTURE. 

merit, at an intermediate point between the line of 
the gesture from which it passes and that of the ges- 
ture towards which it is tending, — descends, (with 
more or less force and swiftness, according to the 
character of emotion in the language uttered,) to the 
terminating point of movement for the gesture 'de- 
scending' 'oblique.' The line of motion thus de- 
scribed might be represented to the eye as follows : 
If A C be the points from and to which the gesture 

passes, the line of a _. 

motion is not an /\ hut * curve > /^% 
angle, thus, A* \jl thus ' ^ U 

The idea of the motion traced by the hand will be 
perhaps fully formed by supposing the curve to slope 
inward towards the speaker's body ; thus, if D repre- 
sent the place of the speaker, the curve would be 
described in this manner, B representing /^\D 
the termination of the preparatory move- q/ J a 
ment. [See also Fig. 55.] 

The observance of the character of preparatory 
movement, is a point of great consequence in gesture ; 
since it decides the style of action as free, forcible, 
commanding, dignified, graceful, lofty, or the reverse, 
according to the extent of space it moves through, 
and the time of its movement, as slow or quick, 
gradual or abrupt. Magnificence and boldness of 
gesture belong to the recitation of sublime strains of 
poetry. But force, freedom, and "propriety, with 
chasteness of style, are the chief considerations in 
the delivery of prose ; and these qualities require less 
allowance of time and space for action^ than are 



GENERAL RULES. 71 

necessary to those of poetic recitation, — a distinction 
which should be carefully observed. 

IV. The frequency of gesture must be 
prescribed by the character of sentiment in 
the piece which is spoken, and by the style 
of language, as moderate and plain, or impas- 
sioned and figurative ; the former requiring 
little use of gesture, and the latter much. 

V. All action must arise directly from the 
sense of ivhat is spoken, and never from arbi- 
trary notions of variety or grace. True 
variety is the result of a due observance of 
the preparatory and terminating lines of 
gesture; and grace consists merely in pre- 
serving these from awkward deviations. 

VI. Imitative gesture should seldom be 
used even in poetry, and never in prose. 

VII. The use of the left hand, whether 
singly or in conjunction with the right, de- 
pends not on arbitrary opinions of propriety 
or grace, but usually on necessity, felt by the 
speaker, either as regards himself or his au- 
dience. This form of gesture, as far as it is a 
matter of choice, should be sparingly adopted. 

VIII. Gesture should be fluent and con- 
nected, not abrupt and desultory, or appear- 
ing and disappearing in a capricious manner. 

IX. The placing of the hand on the heart 



72 GESTURE. 

had better be omitted, if any risk must be 
incurred of an incorrect or objectionable 
action by performing it. # 

X. Gesture appropriate to the prevailing 
style of prose, unites force and grace with 
simplicity, and has generally an outward 
and downward tendency combined ; avoiding 
action ichich runs across the body of the 
speaker, or sweeps inwardly. 

XL All nice and studied positions of the 
hand, and all which are peculiar and awk- 
ward, should be carefully avoided, as well 
as all positions and actions which uninten- 
tionally interfere with the effect of delivery. 

* The correct placing of the hand on the heart, is such as to bring 
the middle part of the middle and the third fingers — not the palm — 
directly over the spot in which the pulsation of the heart is felt. 
[See Fig. 56.] 



APPENDIX, 

DESIGNED FOR PRACTICAL EXERCISE 

IN 

JBeclamatton, 

CONSISTING OF A DEBATE ON THE CHARACTER OP 

JULIUS CiESAR. 
By James Sheridan KLnowles* 

1st Speaker, {Chairman.)'— Gentlemen, 

You have assembled to discuss the propriety of calling 
Caesar a Great Man. I promise myself much satisfaction 
from your debate. I promise myself the pleasure of 
hearing many ingenious arguments on each side of the 
question. I promise myself the gratification of witness- 
ing a contest, maintained with animation, good humor, 
and courtesy. 

You are assembled, Gentlemen, to discuss the merits of 
a man, whose actions are connected with some of the most 
interesting events in Roman story. You have given the 
subject due consideration. — You come prepared for the 
contest; and I shall not presume to offer any opinion, 
respecting the ground which either side ought to take. 
My remarks shall be confined to the study of Oratory — 
and, allow me to say, I consider Oratory to be the second 
end of our academic labors, of which the first end is, tc 
render us enlightened, useful, and virtuous. 
7 



74 APPENDIX. 

The principal means of communicating our ideas are 
two — speech and writing. The former is the parent of 
the latter ; it is the more important, and its highest efforts 
are called — Oratory. 

If we consider the very early period at which we be- 
gin to exercise the faculty of speech, and the frequency 
with which we exercise it, it must be a subject of surprise 
that so few excel in Oratory. In any enlightened com- 
munity, you will find numbers who are highly skilled in 
some particular art or science, to the study of which they 
did not apply themselves, till they had almost arrived at 
the stage of manhood. Yet, with regard to the powers 
of speech — those powers which the very second year of 
our existence generally calls into action, the exercise of 
which goes on at our sports, our studies, our walks, our 
very meals ; and which is never long suspended, except at 
the hour of refreshing sleep — with regard to those powers, 
how few surpass their fellow-creatures of common infor- 
mation and moderate attainments! how very few deserve 
distinction! — how rarely does one attain to eminence! 

The causes are various; but we must not attempt, here, 
to investigate them. By doing so, we might alarm many 
a formidable adversary ; we might excite a suspicion that 
we wished to undermine the foundations of modern litera- 
ture; although our only aim should be to render them 
sound and durable, and to despoil the edifice of a few 
monastic features, that mar the harmony, and take from 
the general effect of the structure. 

I shall simply state, that one cause of our not generally 
excelling in Oratory is — our neglecting to cultivate the 



APPENDIX. 75 

art of speaking — of speaking our own language. We 
acquire the power of expressing our ideas, almost insensi- 
bly — we consider it as a thing that is natural to us; we 
do not regard it as an art — it is an art — a difficult art — 
an intricate art — and our ignorance of that circumstance, 
or our omitting to give it due consideration, is the cause 
of our deficiency. 

In the infant, just beginning to articulate, you will ob- 
serve every inflection that is recognised in the most accu- 
rate treatise on elocution — you will observe, further, an 
exact proportion in its several cadences, and a speaking 
expression in its tones. I say, you will observe these 
things in almost every infant. Select a dozen men — men 
of education — erudition — ask them to read a piece of ani- 
mated composition — you will be fortunate if you find one 
in the dozen, that can raise or depress his voice — inflect 
or modulate it, as the variety of the subject requires. 
What has become of the inflections, the cadences, and the 
modulation of the infant ? They have not been exercised 
— they have been neglected — -they have never been put 
into the hands of the artist, that he might apply them to 
their proper use- — they have been laid aside, spoiled, 
abused ; and, ten to one, they will never be good for any 
thing ! 

Oratory is highly useful to him that excels in it. In 
common conversation, observe the advantage which the 
fluent speaker enjoys over the man that hesitates, and 
stumbles in discourse. With half his information, he has 
twice his importance; he commands the respect of his 
auditors ; he instructs and gratifies them. In the general 



76 APPENDIX. 

transactions of business, the same superiority attends him. 
He communicates his views with clearness, precision, and 
effect ; he carries his point by his mere readiness ; he con- 
cludes his treaty before another kind of man would have 
well set about it. Does he plead the cause of friendship? 
—how happy is his friend! Of charity? — how fortunate 
is the distressed ! Should he enter the legislature of his 
country, he approves himself the people's bulwark ! 

That you will persevere in the pursuit of so useful a 
study as that of Oratory, I confidently hope. 

Gentlemen, the Question for debate is — 

WAS CESAR A GREAT MAN? 

2d Speaker. — Sir, I am unpractised in the orator's 
art, nor can I boast that native energy of talent, which 
asks not the tempering of experience, but, by its single 
force, effects what seems the proper achievement of labors 
and of years. Let me then hope that you will excel in 
favor, as much as I shall fall short in merit. 

*Was Caesar a great man?' — What revolution has 
taken place in the first appointed government of the uni- 
verse — What new and opposite principle has begun to 
direct the operations of nature — What refutation of their 
long-established precepts has deprived reason of her 
sceptre, and virtue of her throne, that a character which 
forms the noblest theme that ever merit gave to fame, 
should now become a question for debate ? 

No painter of human excellence, if he would draw the 
features of that hero's character, needs study a favorable 
light, or striking attitude. In every posture, it has majesty j 



APPENDIX. 77 

and the lineaments of its beauty are prominent in every 
point of view. Do you ask me, * Had Caesar genius?' — 
He was an orator ! * Had Caesar judgment ? ' — he was 
a politician ! ' Had Caesar valor ? ' — he was a conqueror ! 
'Had Caesar feeling? ' — He was a friend! 

It is a generally received opinion, that uncommon 
circumstances make uncommon men — Caesar was an un- 
common man, in common ^circumstances. The colossal 
mind commands your admiration, no less in the pirate's 
captive, than in the victor of Pharsalia. Who, but the 
first of his race, could have made vassals of his savage 
masters, mocked them into reverence of his superior 
nature, and threatened, with security, the power that held 
him at its mercy? Of all the striking incidents of Caesar's 
life* had history preserved for us but this single one, it 
would have been sufficient to make us fancy all the rest; 
at least we should have said, 'Such a man was born to 
conquest, and to empire ! ' 

To expatiate on Caesar's powers of oratory, would only 
be to add one poor eulogium to the testimony of the first 
historians. Cicero, himself, grants him the palm of al- 
most pre-eminent merit, and seems at a loss for words to 
express his admiration of him. His voice was musical, 
his delivery energetic, his language chaste and rich, ap- 
propriate and peculiar. And it is well presumed, that, 
had he studied the art of public speaking, with as much 
industry as he studied the art of war, he would have been 
the first of orators, duintilian says, he would have been 
the only man capable of combating Cicero; but, granting 



78 APPENDIX. 

them to have been equal in ability, what equal contest 
could the timid Cicero — whose nerves fail him, and whose 
tongue falters, when the forum glitters with arms — what 
equal contest could he have held with the man, whose 
vigor chastised the Belgse, and annihilated the Nervii, 
that maintained their ground till they were hewn to 
pieces on the spot ! 

His abilities as a master of composition were undoubt- 
edly of the first order. How admirable is the structure 
of his Commentaries! what perspicuity and animation 
are there in the details f You fancy yourself upon the 
field of action f You follow the development of his plans 
with the liveliest curiosity! — You look on with unwea- 
¥ied attention, as he fortifies his camp,, or invests his 
enemy, or crosses the impetuous torrent ! — You behold 
his legions, as they move forward,, from different points, 
to the line, of battle — you hear the shout of the onset, and 
the crash of the encounter; and, breathless with suspense, 
mark every fluctuation of the awful tide of war ! 

As a politician, how consummate was his address ! — 
How grand his projections ! — How happy the execution 
of his measures I He compels the vanquished Helvetii to 
rebuild their towns and villages; making his enemies the 
guards, as it were, of his frontier. He captivates, by his 
clemency, the Arverni, and the iEdui, winning to the 
support of his arms the strength that had been employed 
to overpower them. He governs his province with such 
equity and wisdom, as add a milder, but a fairer lustre to 
his glory ; and, by their fame, prepare the Roman people 
for his happy yoke. Upon the very eve of his rupture 



APPENDIX. 79 

with Pompey, he sends back, on demand, the borrowed 
legions, covering with rewards the soldiers that may no 
longer serve him, and whose weapons, on the morrow, 
may be turned against his breast — presenting here a 
noble example of his respect of right, and of that mag. 
nanimity, which maintains that gratitude should not cease, 
though benefits are discontinued. When he reigns sole 
master of the Roman world, how temperate is his triumph I 
—how scrupulous his respect for the very forms of the 
laws! — He discountenances the profligacy of the patri- 
cians, and endeavors to preserve the virtue of the state, 
by paying wholesome restraints upon luxury. He en- 
courages the arts and sciences, patronizes genius and 
talents, respects religion and justice, and puts in practice 
every means that can contribute to the welfare, the happi- 
ness, and the stability of the empire. 

To you, Sir, who are so fully versed in the page of his- 
tory, it must be unnecessary to recount the military exploits 
of Caesar. Why should I compel your attention to follow 
him, for the hundredth time, ^through hostile myriads, 
yielding, at every encounter, to the force of his invincible 
arms. Full often, Sir, have your calculations hesitated to 
credit the celerity of his marches; your belief recoiled at 
the magnitude of his operations; and your wonder re-pe- 
rused the detail of his successive victories, following upon 
the shouts of one another. As a captain, he was the first 
of warriors ; nor were his valor and skill more admirable 
than his abstinence and watchfulness — his disregard of 
ease and his endurance of labor — his moderation and his 
mercy. Perhaps, indeed* this last quality forms the most 



80 APPENDIX. 

prominent feature in his character; and proves, by the 
consequences of its excess, that virtue itself requires re- 
straint, and has its proper bounds, which it ought not to 
exceed ; for Caesar's moderation was his ruin ! 

That Caesar had a heart susceptible of friendship, and 
alive to the finest touches of humanity, is unquestionable. 
Why does he attempt so often to avert the storm of civil 
war ? — Why does he pause so long upon the brink of the 
Rubicon ? — Why does he weep when he beholds the head 
of his unfortunate rival ?— -Why does he delight in par- 
doning his enemies— even those very men that had de- 
serted him ? 

It seems as if he lived the lover of mankind, and fell — 
as the Bard expresses it — vanquished, not so much by 
the weapons, as by the ingratitude of his murderers. 

If, Sir, a combination of the most splendid talents for 
war, with the most sacred love of peace — of the most illus- 
trious public virtue, with the most endearing private 
worth — of the most unyielding courage, with the most ac- 
cessible moderation, may constitute a great man — that title 
must be Caesar's [ 

3d Speaker.- — No change, Sir, has taken place in 
the first appointed government of the universe — the opera- 
tions of nature acknowledge, now, the same principle that 
they did in the beginning — reason still holds her sceptre-, 
virtue still fills her throne, and the epithet of great does 
not belong to Caesar ! 

I would lay it down, Sir, as an unquestionable position, 
that the worth of talents is to be estimated only by the use 



APPENDIX. 81 

we make of them. If we employ them in the cause of 
virtue, their value is great. — If we employ them in the 
cause of vice, they are less than worthless — they are per- 
nicious and vile. Now, Sir, let us examine Caesar's 
talents by this principle, and we shall find, that, neither 
as an orator, nor as a politician — neither as a warrior 
nor as a friend — was Caesar a great man. 

If I were asked, * What was the first, the second, and 
the last principle of the virtuous mind ? ' I should reply, 
* It was the love of country.' Sir, it is the love of parent, 
brother, friend ! — the love of man ! — the love of honor, 
virtue, and religion ! — the love of every good and vir- 
tuous deed ! — I say, Sir, if I were asked> * What was the 
first, the second, and the last principle of the virtuous 
mind ? ' I should reply, * It was the love of country I ' 
Without it, man is the basest of his kind ! — a selfish, 
cunning, narrow speculator! — a trader in the dearest 
interests of his species ! — reckless of every tie of nature 
— sentiment — affection ! — a Marius — a Sylla — a Crassus 
— a Catiline — a Caesar ! What, Sir, was Caesar's oratory? 
— How far did it prove him to be actuated by the love of 
country? It justified, for political interest, the invader 
of his domestic honor! — -sheltered the incendiary! — abet- 
ted treason !- — flattered the people into their own undoing! 
— assailed the liberties of his country, and bawled into 
silence every virtuous patriot that struggled to uphold 
them! He would have been a greater orator than 
Cicero ! I question the assertion — I deny that it is cor- 
rect ! — He would have been a greater orator than Cicero ! 
— Well ! let it pass — he might have been a greater orator* 



82 APPENDIX. 

but he never could have been so great a man. Which 
way soever he had directed his talents, the same inordi- 
nate ambition would have led to the same results ; and, 
had he devoted himself to the study of oratory, his tongue 
had produced the same effects as his sword, and equally 
desolated the human kingdom. 

But Caesar is to be admired as a politician! I do not 
pretend to define the worthy speaker's idea of a politician ; 
but I shall attempt, Mr. Chairman, to put you in possession 
of mine. By a politician, I understand a man who 
studies the laws of prudence and of justice, as they are 
applicable to the wise and happy government of a people, 
and the reciprocal obligations of states. Now, Sir, how 
far was Caesar to be admired as a politician 1 He makes 
war upon the innocent Spaniards, that his military talents 
may not suffer from inaction. This was a ready way to 
preserve the peace of his province, and to secure its loyalty 
and affection. That he may be recorded as the first 
Roman that had ever crossed the Rhine in a hostile man- 
ner, he invades the unoffending Germans, lays waste their 
territories with fire, and plunders and sacks the country 
of the Sicambri and the Suevi. Here was a noble policy ! 
— that planted in the minds of a brave and formidable 
people, the fatal seeds of that revenge and hatred, which 
finally assisted in accomplishing the destruction of the 
Roman empire ! In short, Sir, Caesar's views were not 
of that enlarged nature, which could entitle him to the 
name of a great politician ; for he studied, not the happi- 
ness and interests of a community, but merely his own; 



APPENDIX. 83 

advancement, which he accomplished— by violating the 
laws, and destroying the liberties, of his country. 

That Cses.ar was a great conqueror, I do not care to 
dispute. His admirers are welcome to all the advantages 
that result from such a position. I will not subtract one 
victim from the hosts that perished for his fame, or abate, 
by a single groan, the sufferings of his vanquished ene- 
mies, from his first great battle in Gaul, to his last victory 
under the walls of Munda ; but I will avow it to be my 
opinion, that the character of a great conqueror does r not 
necessarily constitute that of a great man ; nor can the 
recital of Caesar's many victories produce any other im- 
pression upon my mind, than what proceeds from the 
contemplation of those convulsions of the earth, which, in 
a moment inundate with ruin, the plains of fertility and 
the abodes of peace ; or, at one shock, convert whole cities 
into the graves of their living population ! 

But Caesar's munificence, his clemency, his moderation 
and his affectionate nature, constitute him a great man ! 
What was his munificence, his clemency, or his modera- 
tion ? — The automaton of his ambition! It knew no 
aspiration from the Deity. It was a thing from the hands 
of a mechanician! — an ingenious mockery of nature ! Its 
action seemed spontaneous — its look argued a soul — but 
all the virtue lay in the finger of the operator. He could 
possess no real munificence, moderation, or clemency, 
who ever expected his gifts to be doubled by return — who 
never abstained, but with a view to excess ; nor spared, 
but for the indulgence of rapacity. 

Of the same nature, Sir, were his affections. He was, 



84 APPENDIX. 

indeed, a man of exquisite artifice ; but the deformity of 
his character was too prominent — no dress could 
thoroughly hide it; nay, Sir, the very attempt to conceal, 
served only to discover, the magnitude of the distortion. 
He atones to the violated and murdered laws, by doing 
homage to their manes ; and expiates the massacre of 
thousands, by dropping a tear or two into an ocean of 
blood ! 

4th Speaker. — Sir, to form an accurate idea of Caesar's 
character, it is necessary that we should consider the na* 
ture of the times in which he lived ; for the conduct of 
public men cannot be duly estimated, without a knowledge 
of k the circumstances under which they have acted. The 
happiness of a community resembles the health of the 
body. As it is not always the same regimen that can 
preserve, or the same medicine that can restore, the latter; 
so the former is not always to be maintained by the same 
measures, or recovered by the same corrections. There 
was a time, when kingly power had grown to so enor- 
mous an excess, as rendered its abolition necessary for 
the salvation of the Roman people, Let us examine 
whether the times in which Caesar lived, did not call for, 
and justify, the measures which he adopted — whether the 
liberty of the republic had not degenerated into such a 
state of anarchy, as rendered it expedient that the power 
of the empire should be vested in one man, whose influ- 
ence and talents could command party, and control faction. 

The erroneous ideas that we have formed concerning 
Roman liberty, have induced us to pass a severe judgment 



APPENDIX. 85 

on the actions of many an illustrious man. The admirers 
of that liberty will not expect to be told that it was little 
better than a name. True liberty, Sir, could never have 
been enjoyed by a people who were the slaves of continual 
tumults and cabals, whose magistrates were the mere 
echoes of a crowd, and among whom virtue itself had no 
protection from popular caprice or state intrigue. By 
the term liberty, I understand a freedom from all respon- 
sibility, except what morality, virtue, and religion, impose. 
That is the only liberty which is consonant with the true 
interest of man — the only liberty that renders his associa- 
tion with his fellow, permanent and happy — the only lib- 
erty that places him in a peaceful, honorable, and pros- 
perous community — the only liberty that makes him the 
son of a land that he would inhabit till his death, and the 
subject of a state that he would defend with his property 
and his blood ! All other liberty is but a counterfeit — the 
stamp a cheat, and the metal base — turbulence — insolence 
— licentiousness — party ferment — selfish domination — an- 
archy — such anarchy as needed more than mortal talents 
to restrain it ; and found them in a Caesar, 

I hold it to be an unquestionable position, that they who 
duly appreciate the blessings of liberty, revolt as much 
from the idea of exercising, as from that of enduring, op- 
pression. How far this was the case with the Romans, 
you may inquire of those nations that surrounded them. 
Ask them, ' What insolent guard paraded before their 
gates, and invested their strong holds?' They will answer, 
* A Roman legionary. 5 Demand of them, * What greedy 
8 



86 APPENDIX. 

extortioner fattened by their' poverty, and clothed himself 
by their nakedness ] ' They will inform you, • A Roman 
Quaestor.' Inquire of them, * What imperious stranger 
issued to them his mandates of imprisonment or confisca- 
tion, of banishment or death ? ' They will reply to you, 
* A Roman Consul.' Question them, * What haughty con- 
queror led through his city their nobles and kings in 
chains, and exhibited their countrymen, by thousands, 
in gladiators' shows for the amusement of his fellow 
citizens ? ' They will tell you, ' A Roman General.' 
Require of them, * What tyrants imposed the heaviest 
yoke — enforced the most rigid exactions — inflicted the 
most savage punishments, and showed the greatest gust 
for blood and torture ? ' They will exclaim to you, * The 
Roman people.' 

Yes, Sir, that people, so jealous of what they called 
their liberties, to gratify an insatiate thirst for conquest, 
invaded the liberties of every other nation ; and on what 
spot soever they set their tyrant foot, the fair and happy 
soil of the freeman withered at their stamp! But the re- 
tributive justice of Heaven ordained that their rapacity 
should be the means of its own punishment. As their 
territories extended, their armies required to be enlarged, 
and their campaigns became protracted. Hence the citi- 
zen lost in the camp that independence which he had 
been taught in the city ; and, being long accustomed to 
obey, implicitly, the voice of his general, from having been 
sent forth the hope, returned the terror of his country. 
Hence, Sir, their generals forgot, in foreign parts, the re- 
publican principles which they had imbibed in the forum ; 



APPENDIX. 87 

and, long habituated to unlimited command, from being 
despots abroad, learned to be traitors at home. Hence, 
Sir, Marius returned the salutations of his fellow-citizens 
with the daggers of assassins ; and, with cool ferocity, 
marched to the Capitol, amidst the groans of his butchered 
countrymen, expiring on each side of him. Hence Sylla's 
bloody proscription, that turned Rome into a shambles — 
that tore its victims from the altars of the gods — that made 
it death for a man to shelter a person proscribed, though 
it were his son, his brother, or his father ; and never suf- 
fered the executioners to take breath, till senators, knights, 
and citizens, to the number of nine thousand, had been 
inhumanly murdered ! 

Such, Sir, were the events that characterized the times 
in which Cassar lived. To such atrocities were the Ro- 
man people subject, while the rivalry of their leading men 
was at liberty to create divisions in the state. Had you. 
Sir, lived in those times, what would you have called the 
man, that would have stepped forward to secure your 
country against the repetition of those horrid scenes % 
Would you not have styled him a friend to his country — 
a benefactor to the world — a great man — a demi-god ? 
Was not Cassar such a character? Observe what use he 
makes of power. — He does not employ it to gratify re- 
venge, or to awe his countrymen : on the contrary, the 
whole of his conduct encourages confidence and freedom ; 
while he reforms the government, and enacts the wisest 
laws for the preservation of [order, and for the happiness 
of the community. They who object to the character of 
Ca3sar, condemn it, principally, upon the score of his 



88 APPENDIX. 

having erected himself into the sole governor of the re- 
public ; but let it be remembered, that the happiness of a 
state does not depend so much upon the form of its govern- 
ment, as upon the manner in which that government is 
administered. A country might be as prosperous and 
free under what was anciently called a tyranny, as where 
the chief power was vested in the people. 

In short, Sir, when Caesar created himself dictator, and 
thereby destroyed, virtually, the republican form of gov- 
ernment, he usurped no more than the people did, when 
they erected themselves into a republic, and thereby de- 
stroyed the monarchy; and the existing circumstances 
which rendered the act of the latter expedient, were not 
more urgent than those which gave rise to the conduct of 
the former. 

Caesar, Sir, was a great man ! 

5th Speaker. — Caesar, Sir, was not a great man. He 
who, for his own private views, disobeyed the order of the 
senate, from whom he held his power — he who seduced 
from their duty the soldiers whom he commanded in 
trust for the republic — he who passed the Rubicon, 
though, by that step, he knew he must inundate his coun- 
try with blood — he who plundered the public treasury, 
that he might indulge a selfish and rapacious ambition — 
he against whom the virtuous Cato ranked himself, whose 
very mercy the virtuous Cato deemed a dishonor to which 
death was preferable,— was not a great man, 

* Caesar erected himself into a tyrant, that he might pre- 
vent a repetition of those atrocities which had been com- 



APPENDIX. 89 

mittedby Marias and Sylla ! ' What does the gentleman 
mean by such an assertion? Caesar pursues the same 
measures that Marius and Sylla did — why?— To prevent 
the recurrence of the effects which those measures pro- 
duced } He keeps his eye steadfastly upon them — follows 
them in the same track — treads in their very foot-prints — 
w T hy ? That he may arrive at a different point of destina- 
tion! What flimsy arguments are these! What were 
Sylla and Marius, that Caesar was not ? If they were 
ambitious, was not he ambitious ? If they were treach- 
erouSj was not he treacherous ? If they rebelled, did not 
he rebel? If they usurped, did not he usurp? If they 
were tyrants, was not he a tyrant % 

You were told — the people, from their long-continued 
service in the army, gradually lost the spirit of independ- 
ence, and that the calamities of the state arose from that 
cause. Granted. — It follows, then, that a spirit of independ- 
ence was necessary for the prosperity of the state; and, 
consequently, that the way to put a stop to its calamities^ 
was to revive that spirit. Did Caesar do this ? The gen- 
tleman says, he had the happiness of his country at heart. 
From his own argument, it follows, that this was the way 
to secure the happiness of his country. Did Caesar 
adopt it ? Was it to revive in his countrymen the spirit 
of independence, that he audaciously stepped from the 
rank of their servant to that of their master ? Was it to 
preserve the integrity which fosters that spirit, that he 
corrupted the virtue of all that came in contact with him, 
and that he dared to tempt ? Was it for the regeneration. 



90 



APPENDIX. 



of the republic that he converted it into a tyranny ? Was 
it to restore the government to its ancient health and 
soundness, that he filled all the offices of the state with his 
own creatures, the instruments of his usurpation? Was it 
to reanimate the people with a sense of their own dignity, 
that he called them Bruti and Cumcei — that is, beasts and 
fools — when they applauded the tribunes for having strip- 
ped his statues of the royal diadems with which his flatter- 
ers had dressed them ? These were the acts of Caesar. 
Did they tend to restore the ancient virtue of the Roman 
people? No, Sir; they tended to annihilate the chance of 
its restoration — to sink the people into a viler abasement 
— to rob them of the very names of men. 

But the gentleman has brought forward a very curious 
argument, for the purpose of proving that the Romans 
were incapable of being a free people — namely, that their 
magistrates were the mere echoes of the people. He ad- 
verts, I suppose, to what were called the tribunes of the 
people — officers that acted particularly for the plebeian 
orders, and were generally chosen from their body. But 
those magistrates, or tribunes, were, it seems, the mere 
voices of the people, and that circumstance rendered the 
people incapable of being free! To me, at least, this is a 
paradox. Who elected these tribunes? — The people. 
What were they? — The representatives of the people. 
Whose affairs did they manage ? — The affairs of the peo- 
ple. To whom were they responsible? — The people. 
What should they have been, then, but the voices, or, as 
the gentleman has expressed it, the echoes of the people? 
But this circumstance rendered the Roman people incapa- 



APPENDIX. yl 

ble of being free! Did it shackle them to have a control 
over their tribunes ? Did it enslave them to have a voice 
in their own measures? Did it sell them into bondage to 
have the disposal of their own affairs? If it did, I should 
advise you, Sir, not to meddle w r ith that honest man, your 
steward. Bid him let what farms he pleases; demand 
what fines he pleases; cultivate what land he pleases; fell 
what timber he pleases ; keep what accounts he pleases ; 
and make what returns he pleases; lest, by impertinently 
meddling with your servant, in your own affairs, you rob 
yourself — ruin your estate — become involved in debt — 
and end your days in pris,onL 

The admirers of Caesar, and, of course, of that form of 
government which was anciently called a tyranny, are ex- 
tremely fond of under-rating the character of the Romans, 
as a free people : their liberty they always represent to 
us, as something bordering on excess; and, following the 
idea that extremes meet, they describe it as verging into 
that extreme which naturally leads to despotism. But 
the hypothesis, which is not borne out by facts, is good 
for nothing. It was not the liberty which the plebeians 
enjoyed, that was the cause of their final enslavement. It 
was the senate's jealousy of that liberty — the senate's 
struggles for the control of that liberty — the senate's 
plunder of that liberty — the senate's desire to annihilate 
that liberty, which left it in the power of any crafty 
knave, miscalled a great man, who was sufficiently mas- 
ter of hypocrisy and daring, to set his foot on both the 
senate ^and the people, and make himself, as Caesar did, 
the tyrant of his country !: 



92 APPENDIX. 

6th Speaker. — It is not, Mr. Chairman, my present 
object to answer the arguments which have been so ably 
brought forward to support the negative of this question. 
I rise, to submit a few observations upon the nature of 
the question itself. I take the liberty of stating, that I 
think it an injudiciously selected question — a vague and 
indefinite question — a question which does not receive 
from every mind the same interpretation. I dare assert, 
Mr. Chairman, that, in this very assembly, there are 
various different opinions with respect to what constitutes 
a great man. Some will tell you, that greatness consists 
in rank — some, in exploits — some, in talents — some, in 
virtue. Thus, Sir, the very premises of our discussion 
are unsettled and wavering; and, from unsettled and 
wavering premises, what can proceed, but indefinite and 
inconclusive arguments. Already do the gentlemen on 
the opposite side endeavor to strain your question to the 
construction, that greatness essentially consists in good- 
ness ; and they may quote Mr. Pope, and say, ''Tis 
phrase absurd to call a villain great.' Others, again, may 
insist, that greatness depends upon rank, and exclaim 
with Milton, ' Worthiest, by being good, far more than 
great or high.' Where are we to rest, Sir, upon this 
doubtful basis? — this 'neither sea nor good dryland!' 
I confess, Mr. Chairman, that, until this point shall have 
been disposed of, I cannot hope for an end to the debate, 
and, therefore, propose, as an amendment, that previously 
to the farther discussion of the question, we shall deter- 
mine, * w T hat it is that constitutes a great man, ' 



APPENDIX. 93 

7th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, I object to the amend- 
ment, on- two grounds; first, because it is indecorous, with 
regard to you; secondly, because it is uncalled for, with 
regard to the question. Your experience, Sir, could 
never have allowed you to propose a question that re- 
quired revision; and had you proposed such a question, 
it would have been our duty to receive without comment. 
The question in point does not require revision. You 
do not ask, if Caesar was a great warrior, or a great poli- 
tician; but, if he was a great man. Surely, Sir : . in these 
enlightened times, we do not inquire what it is that consti- 
tutes a great man. Do we not refuse the name of man to 
him that violates the laws of morality and religion? And, 
if we wish to express that a person is eminently virtuous, 
do we not use that name without a single epithet ? To 
say of any one that he is a man, is to give him credit for 
the noblest endowments of the heart. To say that he is 
not a man, is to leave him destitute of any generous prin- 
ciple. The question cannot be viewed in any light but 
one, namely, as inquiring whether Caesar was a man of 
great virtues, and justifiable conduct? If he was so, our 
opposition will be fruitless — if he was not so, those gen- 
tlemen exert their eloquence to little purpose. 

Upon what ground are we to acknowledge that Caesar 
was a great man ? For my part, I am at a loss to ac- 
count for the infatuation of those who call him so; for his 
chief merit seems to have consisted in his talents as a 
warrior; and those talents he certainly employed in a 
cause that cannot be defended upon any principle of mo- 
rality or religion. What species of beings are we, that 



94 APPENDIX. 

we laud to the skies those men whose names live in the 
recollection of a field of carnage, a sacked town, or a 
stormed citadel?— that we celebrate, at our convivial 
meetings, the exploits of him, who, in a single day, has 
more than trebled the ordinary havoc of death? that our 
wives and daughters weave garlands for the brow whose 
sweat has cost the groans of widows and of orphans ? — 
and that our very babes are taught to twine the arms of 
innocence and purity about the knees that have been used 
to wade in blood? — I say, what species of beings are we, 
that we give our praise, our admiration, and our love, to 
that which reason, religion, interest, every consideration 
should persuade us to condemn — to avoid — to abhor ! 

I do not mean to say that war Ought never to be waged 
— there are, at times, occasions when it is expedient — 
necessary, justifiable. But who celebrates with songs of 
triumph those commotions of the elements that call the 
awful lightning into action — that hurl the inundating 
clouds to earth — and send the winds into the deep to 
rouse its horrors ? These things are necessary ; but we 
hail them not with shouts of exultation ; we do not clap 
our hands as they pass by us ; we do not throng in crowds 
to their processions ; we shudder as we behold them ! 
What-species of beings are we ? We turn with disgust 
from the sight of the common executioner, who, in his 
time, has despatched a score or two of victims — and we 
press to the heels of him, that in a single day, has been 
the executioner of thousands ! 

Let us not call Csesar a great man, because he was a 
great warrior. If we must admire him, let us seek some 



other warrant for our applauses than what proceeds from 
the groans and writhings of humanity! 

Let us, then, Sir, first examine his youth — and here 
we are struck with his notable adventure with the pirates. 
These freebooters took him, as he was sailing to Rhodes ; 
they asked twenty talents for his ransom ; and, in derision 
of their moderation, he promised them fifty — the onus of 
which act of liberality was borne by the honest Milesians, 
who raised the money by a voluntary tax. He spent 
thirty-eight days with those pirates; joined in their diver- 
sions ; took his exercises among them ; wrote poems and 
orations, which he rehearsed to them, and which, indeed, 
pirates as they were, they did not admire; and, in short, 
lived among them with as much security, ease, and honor, 
as if he had been in Rome. And what was the sequel ? 
His ransom arrives ; they keep their compact ; set him at 
liberty: he departs ; arrives at Miletus ; mans some vessels 
in the port of that place ; returns ; attacks these same 
pirates ; takes the greater number of them prisoners, and 
crucifies them, to a man ! # 

Was this a great act in Caesar? True ! he had promised 
to do so, when they showed no great relish for the songs 
and speeches which he had written among them ; but, 
should he have kept his promise? True! they were a ban- 
ditti, — they had deprived him of his liberty ; — but he had 
eaten at their board; he had partaken of their diversions; 
he had slept among them in sacred security; he had rail- 
ed at them without retort; threatened them, and only ex- 
cited delight at his freedoms; — should he, Mr. Chairman, 
have crucified them ? crucified them, to a man ? Was 



96 APWNTH^ 

there not one t at least, he might have spared ? one bluff 
face, whose humor and confidence had pleased him above 
the rest? one hand, whose blunt officiousness he more 
particularly remembered? Oh! Mr. Chairman, do we 
admire the attachment which a wild beast displays towards 
its attentive keeper; do we applaud that sacred and 
general principle of nature, which allows kindness to 
obliterate the sense of injury; and shall we give our sanc- 
tion, praise, and admiration, to this exploit of Caesar's? 

What do we find him next about? He produces the 
images of Marius ! that man, who, as my worthy friend 
has said, returned the salutations of his fellow-citizens 
with the blows of his assassins ; and marched to the 
Capitol amidst the groans of his butchered countrymen, 
expiring on each side of him. This was not follow- 
ing the steps of Marius; it was justifying them ; it was 
expatiating upon them, in the language of veneration and 
triumph ! it w r as inviting to the standard of his ambition 
every recreant that would sell the vigor of his arm to any 
cause, na matter how bloody, how unnatural, how im- 
moral, how sacrilegious? 

I shall not comment upon the circumstance of his 
having been two hundred and fifty thousand pounds in 
debt, before he obtained any public office ; neither shall I 
dwell upon his exhibition of three hundred and twenty 
pair of gladiators ; his diversions in the theatre ; his pro- 
cessions and entertainments — in which, as Plutarch says, 
he far outshone the most ambitious that had gone before 
him, and by which he courted the favor of the vile, the 
witless, the sensual, and the venal. I shall not expatiate 



APPENDIX. 97 

upon the share he had in Catiline's conspiracy ; I shall 
not track him in his military career, hy pointing out the 
ruin which he left behind him at every step: I shall sim- 
ply answer those gentlemen*, who argue, that Caesar 
usurped the supreme power for the public good, by ex* 
amining the characters of the men who abetted him. 

Were your country, Sir, in a state of anarchy; were it 
distracted by the struggles of rival parties, drawn out, 
every now and then in arms against one another ; and 
were you, Sir, to attempt a reformation of manners, what 
qualifications would you require in the men, whom you 
would associate with you in such an undertaking? What 
would content you? Talent? No! Enterprise I No! 
Courage? No! Reputation? No! Virtue? No! The 
men whom you would select, should possess, not one, but 
all of these ; nor, yet, should that content you. They 
must be proved men; tested men; men that had, again 
and again, passed through the ordeal of human tempta- 
tion, without a scar, without a blemish, without a speck! 
You would not inquire out the man who was oppressed 
with debts, contracted by licentiousness, debauchery, every 
species of profligacy! Who, Sir, I ask, were Caesar's 
seconds in his undertaking? Crebonius Curio, one of 
the most vicious and debauched young men in Rome ; a 
creature of Pompey's, bought off by the illustrious Caesar! 
Marcus Antonius, a creature of that creature's; a young 
man so addicted to every kind of dissipation, that he had 
been driven from the paternal roof — the friend and coad- 
jutor of that Clodius, who violated the mysteries of the 
9 



98 APPENDIX. 

Bona Dea, and drove into exile the man that had been 
called the father of his country! Paulus iEmilius, a 
patrician, a consul, a friend of Pompey's— bought off by 
the great Csesar with a bribe of fifteen hundred talents ! 
Such, Sir, were the abettors of Caesar. What, then, what 
was Caesar's object 7 Do we select extortioners, to en- 
force the laws of equity ? Do we make choice of profli- 
gates, to guard the morals of society ? Do we depute 
atheists, to preside over the rites of religion? What, I 
say, was Caesar's object? I will not press the answer: I 
need not press the answer; the premises of my argument 
render it unnecessary. The achievement of great objects 
does not belong to the vile; or of virtuous ones, to the 
vicious ; or of religious ones, to the profane. Caesar did 
not associate such characters with him for the good of 
his country ; his object was the gratification of his own 
ambition, the attainment of supreme power ; no matter by 
what means accomplished ; no matter by what conse- 
quences attended. He aspired to be the highest — above 
the people ! above the authorities! above the laws ! above 
his country ! and, in that seat of eminence he was con- 
lent to sit, though, from the centre to the far horizon of 
his power, his eyes could contemplate nothing but the 
ruin and desolation by which he had reached to it ! 

8th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, I solicit your attention. 

The gentleman says, we ought not to rejoice at the tri- 
umphs of the warrior ! Is this position, Sir, to be received 
without the least restriction ? Let us detect the sophistry 
of those who support the negative of the question. 



APPENDIX. 99 

A caitiff enters your house at the dead hour of the 
night, prepared for robbery, and grasping the instrument 
of murder ! You hear the tread of unknown feet — you 
rise, come upon the intruder, resist him, and lay him pros- 
trate! Shall your wife shudder, when you approach to 
tell her she is safe? — Shall your children shrink from 
you, when you say you have averted the danger that 
threatened their innocent sleep ? Why should they not? 
I'll tell you, Sir — because you have followed the dictates 
of reason, of affection, of nature, and of God. Had you 
not been alarmed — notwithstanding this imminent danger, 
had you risen in safety, and had you found the ruffian 
dead at your chamber-door, without a mark of violence 
upon him — his ready weapon lying by his hand — had 
you then called your family to behold the spectacle, what 
would they all have done? Would not some have fallen 
upon their knees? — would not others have stood with up- 
lifted hands ? — would not all have been transfixed with 
gratitude — w T ith adoration — -that their Almighty guard 
had stretched his arm between them and destruction, and 
marked a limit which the murderer should not pass, with- 
out the penalty of death ? And is the question changed, 
because you are the instrument of God ? It would be 
preposterous to say so. If then, your wife, your children, 
and family, shall bless the hand that has been the means 
of their preservation — if they shall weep for gratitude, 
and press to you on every side, rejoicing in the protection 
of your arm — shall he not hear the voice of gratulation, 
whose skill and valor have saved the lives of thousands — 
have defended cities of matrons and children, not from un- 



iOO APPENDIX. 

expected destruction, but from destruction, again and again 
anticipated — approaching before their eyes, and, at every 
step, acquiring additional horror? Sir, there are warriors, 
whose victories should be celebrated with shouts and 
songs — for whose brows our wives and daughters should 
weave garlands, and whose knees our infants should em- 
brace — such warriors as guard the boundaries of their 
native land ! Though they have waded through blood, 
fair is their aspect, Religion is the motto of their standard, 
and Mercy glances from their sword. — And had not 
Cassar been such a warrior? Who were the enemies 
over whom he triumphed, before his rupture with Pom- 
pey ? Barbarians, that lived by predatory warfare! — The 
people whose ancestors had once sacked Rome ! — who 
were the restless invaders of the Roman territory, and, in 
one of their incursions, annihilated a consular army of a 
hundred and twenty thousand men ! — a nation of robbers ! 
— ignorant of the laws of arms — regardless of leagues and 
treaties — the blood-hounds of havoc — that destroyed for 
the mere gust of destroying ! 

Hut a very curious attack has been made upon the 
character of Caesar, namely that he put a few pirates to 
death ! I question, if the worthy gentleman understands 
what a pirate of those times signified. Probably, he con- 
ceives him to have been a rough, honest, free, merry kind 
of fellow, that loved a roving life, and indulged himself, 
only now and then, in a little harmless plunder! He will 
not expect to be told, that he was a man, enrolled in a 
formidable band — possessing, at times, a fleet of a thousand 
galleys — making frequent descents upon the Italian coasts; 



APPENDIX. 101 

plundering villas — temples — and even towns ! — carrying 
off consuls and their lictors ! — tearing virgins from the 
arms of their aged parents ! — murdering in cold blood, the 
prisoners whom they had taken, particularly Romans — 
and spreading such terror over the seas, that no merchant- 
vessel dared to put out of port, and large districts of the 
empire were threatened with famine! Surely the gentle- 
man must be ignorant of these facts; otherwise he would 
not have chosen so untenable a position for attack. As to 
Caesar's forgetting that the pirate had been his host, it 
might indeed have been some ground for animadversion, 
had he ever remembered that he was so. Some gentle- 
men, truly, may be so much in love with hospitality, as 
to admire it, though it should be forced upon them with 
handcuffs and fetters ; and may have so curious a taste for 
visiting, as never to go abroad, except upon the requisition 
of a bailiff; or value an entertainment, unless the host 
turns the key upon them, and feasts them in a dungeon 
with walls a yard thick, and windows double-barred. 
But, as such fancies cannot be called common, Caesar, I 
think, may escape without censure for not having in- 
dulged in them. 

And Caesar is to be condemned, because he produced 
the images of Marius, and revived his memory and hon- 
ors ! Now, Sir, I conceive a weaker ground of accusa- 
tion could not have been selected ; for the mere circum- 
stance of Marius's having been related to Caesar by 
marriage, presents a very natural excuse for such a pro- 
ceeding — particularly as it took place upon the death of 
9* 



102 APPENDIX. 

Caesar's aunt, who was the wife of Marius. I fear the 
worthy gentleman does not follow Bacon's recommenda- 
tion, and chew and digest the nutritious food which 
historical reading presents to the mind; otherwise, he 
must have perceived that Caesar's conduct on this occa- 
sion not only admitted of excuse, but even challenged 
commendation. Let him return to the page which he 
has examined, I fear, too superficially, and he will find, 
that, up to that time, several of Sylla' s partisans — parti- 
sans in his murders — remained in Rome — lived there, in 
peace, in safety — perhaps in power : he will find the 
general assertion, that Caesar's conduct in having revived 
the memory of Marius, incensed the nobility; and the 
particular assertion that Catulus accused him before the 
senate. This Catulus had been the distinguished friend 
of Sylla ; had been raised by Sylla to the consulship ; and, 
at Sylla' s death, had preserved his remains from the de- 
served dishonor of an ignominious burial ; had procured 
him the most magnificent funeral that had ever been seen 
in Rome, and caused the vestals and pontifices to sing 
hymns in praise of the man, who, as it has been justly 
said, converted Rome into a shambles, with his butche- 
ries- ! ; — He will find that Caesar answered the invectives of 
Catulus, and was acquitted with high applauses; and that 
he, thereupon, attacked the remaining partisans of Sylla, 
brought them to trial, and, having convicted such as had 
imbrued their hands in the blood of their fellow-citizens, 
caused them to be condemned to death, or to perpetual 
banishment! 



APPENDIX. 103 

Let us, Sir, do justice to the dead, though their interests 
be parted from ours by the lapse of a hundred genera- 
tions — and, as this noble act of Caesar's followed the re- 
vival of his uncle's honors, let us believe that he revived 
his uncle's honors for the purpose of performing this 
noble act — that the memory of Sylla's enemy, being op- 
posed to the memory of Sylla, might deprive it of that 
power which gave impunity to murder, and guarded, 
sacrilege from vengeance ! 

As to the assertion, that Caesar's aims may be ascer- 
tained by examining the character of those whom he 
associated with him, it must go for nothing. The gen- 
tleman must recollect that those very men had been the 
abettors of Pompey — had been employed by Pompey— 
ay ! and with the sanction of the senate — in carrying on 
the measures which he adopted against Caesar. 

Our cause may rest upon one single fact— Rome was 
happy, prosperous, and honored, under Caesar's govern- 
ment ; and I shall have the hardihood to assert, that he, 
whose rule secures the happiness, prosperity, and glory 
of a nation, deserves to rule it. 

9th Speaker. — Sir, if you are not indebted to the 
gentleman that has just addressed you, I am sure the 
fault is not his. He has made you a present of a wife,, 
and a fine thriving family, with all the happy et ceteras. 
Allow me, Sir, to pay my compliments to you, in your 
new character — allow me to congratulate you upon your 
having escaped the bachelor's tax — allow me to give you 
joy of a title, which becomes your grave deportment — 



104 APPENDIX. 

which you wear with a peculiar grace — and which, I 
fervently trust, you will wear long ! 

Here, Mr. Chairman, I feel myself tolerably bold, for I 
have a good cause, and that is more than half the battle — - 
Sir, it is the whole of the battle — it is the victory itself; 
for, though Truth should be repulsed a hundred times, 
she will be triumphant at last. Defeated again, and 
again, she returns unwearied, whole, and confident, to the 
charge — because she is immortal! 

* As easy may you the intrenchant air 

With your keen sword impress, as make her bleed.' 

But this kind of style does not belong to me, Mr. 
Chairman. Unfortunately, I am a fellow so given to 
jesting, that I am always thought to be most in jest, when 
I appear to be serious ; therefore, Sir, I must talk to you 
in my own way — catching at the ideas just as they pre- 
sent themselves ; and giving them to you without exam- 
ination, or order, or system, or any thing elsejhat be- 
speaks a man of a sedate habit of thinking; confiding 
every thing, as I said before, to the goodness of my cause. 

And, first of all, Sir, I have not the least idea of calling 
a man great, because he has been a great conqueror! I 
do not like what are called your great conquerors ! your 
gentlemen that have slain their tens of thousands, and 
fought more battles than they are years old ! I care not 
in what cause they may have been engaged — that is the 
last consideration ; for the very best cause may be en- 
trusted to the very worst man — that is, with respect to 
morals, principles, and so forth. It is not virtue that is 



APPENDIX. 105 

requisite to form such characters ; it is the contempt 
of death — enterprise — cunning — skill — resolution ; and 
these may be found in a man who does not possess one 
single recommendation besides. How many a renowned 
general has turned his arms against the very cause, in 
whose defence he first took them up ! as Caesar did — 
Caesar, who was commissioned by his country to subdue 
the Gauls, and then commissioned himself to subdue his 
country ! I wonder that any man who has a regard for 
common sense, or plain honesty, can so far forget him- 
self, as to justify Caesar's conduct in this particular. I 
shall state a very simple case to you, Mr. Chairman. 
You have a very large estate ; you employ a couple of 
stewards to assist you in the management of it ; and you 
send one of them to reside in the most distant part of it. 
Well, Sir, this steward is a fellow of address; he manages 
his little government very skilfully— keeps your tenants 
in due subjection, andyour servants in admirable order — 
at the same time, taking care to secure himself in their 
good graces, by indulgences, and gifts, and flatteries, and 
every effective means of engaging esteem. Well, Sir, in 
process of time, you determine to dismiss this steward ; 
but you retain the other ; you recall him, that he may give 
an account of himself, and receive his discharge. Does 
he obey you % No : he does not stir a step ! He sets 
his arms akimbo, and thus accosts your messenger — 
' Mr. Jack — or Thomas — or William — or Walter — pre- 
sent my duty to my master, and say, that when steward 
such-a-one receives his discharge, I ; 11 accept mine.' I 
should like to see your face, Mr, Chairman, upon your 



105 APPENDIX. 

receiving his message. I need not follow the supposition 
farther. You would do what you could. You would 
have him fined — imprisoned — hanged. And yet, Sir, 
such a man — though acting upon a larger scale — was 
the immortal Caesar. It makes one sick to hear the 
cause of such a man advocated ! And let me recall to 
the recollection of those gentlemen, the truth, that great- 
ness cannot consist in any thing that is at the disposal of 
chance ; or, rather, that exists by chance. Had not for- 
tune favored Csesar in his first battles, he would have 
been recalled, perhaps brought to trial, and banished ; 
and then he would have been little Csesar. 

And now, Sir, in the name of common sense, what 
mighty acts did Caesar perform, when he became the 
master of his country? We are told that the servile sen- 
ate created him reformer of manners — a fine reformer of 
manners, whose own manners stood so much in need of 
reforming!— Sir, they should have rather made him in- 
spector of markets — for it was in that capacity that he 
shone the most conspicuously. It is said, he limited the 
expense of feasts, and that his officers used to enter the 
houses of the citizens, and snatch from off their tables any 
meats that were served up contrary to his prohibition! I 
should like to see a constable enter my parlor at dinner 
time, and hand away a dish just as it had been placed 
upon the table ! But the best of it is, his restrictions 
affected certain orders only. Men of rank might do as 
they pleased. They might have their litters, and their 
embroidered robes, and their jewels — ay ! and, I dare say, 
their dishes without limit of number, or of quality, or of 



APPENDIX. 107 

variety. Give me no great Caesar for the governor of 
my country. Give me such government as leaves the 
management of a man's table to himself? — Give me such 
cities as have markets without informers ! — where a cook 
may ride in a carriage, as fine as his own gilt and figured 
pastry ; and a pin-maker may set you down to as many 
different dishes, as there are minikins in a row ! 

In fine, Mr. Chairman, my opinion of Caesar is this — 
He was a very fine fighter — a very bad patriot — a very 
selfish master — and a very great rogue ! 

10th Speaker. — Sir, if my worthy friend has presented 
you with a wife and family, the last speaker is not behind- 
hand wiih him, for he has given you a large estate to 
maintain them — an estate so large, as to require two stew- 
ards to manage it ! 

As to the gentleman's eloquence, in opposition to Cae- 
sar's greatness, he, himself, tells you what degree of im- 
portance you are to attach to his opinions ; for he very 
ingenuously says, you are not to expect any thing serious 
from him ; but that you must accept of undigested ideas, 
and rash conclusions, in the place of sober reflection, and 
logical reasoning: his arguments, therefore, pass for 
nothing; and do not add to the strength of his cause, or 
subtract from that of ours. 

In one instance, however, I shall comment upon what 
he has said ; because a man should not be frivolous, even 
in his jesting. I allude to his wit, respecting the restraints 
that Caesar laid upon luxury. Surely, the gentleman can- 
not have been so great a victim to his mirth, as to have 



108 APPENDIX. 

laughed away the fruit of his academical labors ! Surely, 
he cannot have forgotten that Caesar had proud authority 
for the policy he pursued in the respect alluded to ! Surely, 
he remembers a few of the laws of Lycurgus, particularly 
that which prescribed the diet of the Spartans, and enjoin- 
ed all ranks to eat without distinction in one common hall, 
where the simplest repast was provided ! Surely, I need 
not remind him, that the heroes of Greece fared upon 
black broth, and drew their glory no less from the mode- 
ration of their appetite, than from the excess of their 
courage and patriotism. 

The gentleman says, it makes him sick to hear the 
cause of such a man as Caesar advocated ! I shall pre- 
scribe for his sickness. Let him take a dose of common 
sense, and use a little mental exercise — that will remove 
his sickness. 

Caesar, Sir, was a man of stupendous loftiness of mind! 
A man above all influence of fortune! — Himself, where 
other men would have been — nothing ! Observe him, 
when he is surprised by the Nervii. His soldiers are 
employed in pitching their camp — the ferocious enemy 
sallies from his concealment, puts the Roman cavalry to 
the rout, and falls upon the foot. Every thing is alarm, 
confusion, and disorder ! Every one is doubtful what 
course to take! — every one but Caesar ! He causes the 
banner to be erected — the charge to be sounded — the 
soldiers at a distance, recalled — all in a moment ! He runs 
from place to place — his whole frame is in action — his 
words — his looks — his motions — his gestures, exhort his 
men to remember their former valor ! He draws, them 



APPENDIX. 109 

up, and causes the signal to be given — all in a moment ! 
The contest is doubtful and dreadful ! — Two of his legions 
are entirely surrounded ! He seizes a buckler from one 
of the private men — puts himself at the head of his broken 
troops \ — darts into the thick of the battle! — rescues his 
legions, and overthrows the enemy ! 

But, if you would contemplate Caesar in a situation 
where he is peculiarly himself, observe him attempting to 
cress the sea in a fishing-bark. A storm arises ; the 
waves and winds oppose his course; the rowers, in des- 
pair, desist from their labor! — Caesar, from the time he 
had entered the boat, had sat in silence, habited in the 
disguise of a slave, unknown to the sailors or the pilot. — 
Like a genius who could command the elements, he stands 
before the master of the vessel, in his proper shape, and 
cries, ' Go on boldly, my friend, and fear nothing ! Thou 
carriest Caesar and his fortunes along with thee ! ' 

Really, Sir, I cannot command my patience, when I 
hear those gentlemen indulge themselves in invectives 
against a man, the twentieth part of whose excellence, 
divided amongst the whole of them, would make them 
heroes. 

I shall certainly vote for the affirmative of the question. 

11th Speaker. — I regret, Mr. Chairman, that I must 
dissent from the last speaker, with regard to his admira- 
tion of Caesar — I cannot, I confess, behold those incidents 
he has just named, in Caesar's life, in the same light that 
he does. When Caesar was surprised by the Nervii, he 
10 



110 APPENDIX. 

had a great cause at stake, and his conduct was the natural 
result of that consideration. That consideration made him 
collected, and gave him coolness to employ the readiest 
means of extricating himself from the danger that threat- 
ened him. — Besides, he was no raw commander ; he had 
subdued the Helvetians, the Germans, and the Belgians ; 
nor was his rescuing the two legions that were surround- 
ed by the enemy, so wonderful an exploit. He was joined 
at that critical moment by the force that he had left to 
guard his baggage — nor was his success more the conse- 
quence of his courage in leading his men into the thickest 
of the fight, than of the enthusiasm of his soldiers, who 
followed their general, and whose dearest honor was, 
then, most particularly concerned in his safety. 

Caesar, an ambitious general, attempted to cross the sea 
in a fishing-bark ! — A lover swam across the Hellespont! 
— Caesar's fortunes and life were at stake ! — He had only 
a handful of men with him, and Antony was loitering, as 
he supposed, near Brundusium.— Leander had his mistress 
at stake ! — I will not, Mr. Chairman, trespass any longer 
on your patience. I am sure you will agree with me, 
that great exploits must have noble ends — and then, in- 
deed, they make the executor great. 

* Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, 
Is but the more a fool— the more a knave. 
Who noble ends, by noble means, obtains, 
Or, failing, smiles, in exile or in chains — 
Like good Aurelius, let him sigh, or bleed 
Like Socrates— that man is great indeed.' 



APPENDIX. Ill 

12th Speaker. — Mr. Chairman, a gentleman has said 
that the man whose rule secures the happiness, prosperity 
and glory of a nation, deserves to rule it. With equal 
confidence, I assert, that the man who obtains the rule of 
his country, by violating its laws, — how much soever he 
may contribute to make it happy, prosperous and great — 
does not deserve to rule it. He sets a bad example — an 
example, the more pernicious, as his virtues seem to palli- 
ate the atrocity of his usurpation. He leaves it in the 
power of any wretch, who may possess his ambition, with- 
out his excellence, to quote his name, and use it as an 
authority for the commission of a similar crime. 

No gentleman has yet presumed to say that Caesar's 
conduct was sanctioned by the laws of Rome — those laws 
that guarded more cautiously against the approaches of 
tyranny, than against the invasion of a foreign enemy — 
those laws which justify any private man in putting to 
death the person, whom he could afterwards prove to have 
been guilty of meditating usurpation. Cassar, then, did 
not deserve to rule his country, for he violated its laws. 
A good man respects the laws of his country ; Cassar was 
not, in this view, a good man — Cassar was not, in this 
view, a great man ; for goodness is an essential part of 
greatness. 

Let us now examine how far he deserved to rule his 
country, because, as it has been said, he secured its hap- 
piness, prosperity and greatness. Sir, I do not believe 
that he accomplished any such object. To dispose of all 
offices and honors, just as his own interest, or fancy, di- 
rected his choice of the candidates ; to create new offices 



112 APPENDIX. 

for the gratification of his favorites and creatures — making 
the public property the recompense of public delinquency ; 
to degrade the venerable senate, by introducing into it 
persons whose only claim to that dignity was their servile 
devotion to his interests — common soldiers — the sons of 
freedmen — foreigners, and so forth — I say, Sir, to adopt 
such measures as these, had not a tendency to secure the 
happiness or prosperity of his country. But, upon what 
ground does the gentleman assert, that Caesar secured the 
greatness of his country ? Was it by extending the fame 
of its arms ! There was another kind of fame, which the 
Roman people valued more than the fame of their arms — 
the fame of their liberty! — There was another kind of 
greatness, dearer to their pride than all the wealth or 
honor, that could result from foreign victory — that kind 
of greatness, which gloried, not in the establishing, but in 
the destroying of tyranny ; which drove a Tarquin from 
the throne, and cast an Appius into prison ! which called 
their proudest heroes from heads of armies and the rule 
of conquered nations, into the equal ranks of private 
citizens. 

A gentleman, speaking of Caesar's benevolent disposi- 
tion, and of the reluctance with which he entered into the 
civil war, observes, * How long did he pause upon the 
brink of the Rubicon 1 ' How came he to the brink of 
that river 1 How dared he cross it % Shall private men 
respect the boundaries of private property, and shall a man 
pay no respect to the boundaries of his country's rights ?' 
How dared he cross that river ? — Oh ! but he paused 
upon the brink ! He should have perished on the brinkj 



APPENDIX. 113 

ere he had crossed it ! Why did he pause ? — Why does 
a man's heart palpitate, when he is on the point of com- 
mitting an unlawful deed ? Why does the very murder- 
er, his victim sleeping before him, and his glaring eye 
taking the measure of the blow, strike wide of the mortal 
part? — Because of conscience! 'T was that made Caesar 
pause upon the brink of the Rubicon. Compassion ! — 
What compassion ? The compassion of an assassin, that 
feels a momentary shudder, as his weapon begins to cut [ 
Caesar paused upon the brink of the Rubicon £ — What 
was the Rubicon ? — The boundary of Caesar's province. 
From what did it separate his province? — From his 
country. Was that country a desert % No ? it was cul- 
tivated and fertile ; rich and populous ! Its sons were 
men of genius, spirit, and generosity ! Its daughters were 
lovely^ susceptible, and chaste ! Friendship was its in- 
habitant ! — Love was its inhabitant ! — Domestic affection 
was its inhabitant! — Liberty was its inhabitant! — All 
bounded by the stream of the Rubicon ! What was Caesar, 
that stood upon the brink of that stream? — A traitor, 
bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that country ? 
No wonder that he paused ! No wonder, if his imagina- 
tion, wrought upon by his conscience, he had beheld blood; 
instead of water; and heard groans, instead of murmurs! 
No wonder, if some gorgon horror had turned him into 
stone upon the spot! But, no! — he cried, 'The die is 
cast!' He plunged! he crossed! and Rome was free 
no more \ 

Again. It has been observed, ' How often did ke at- 
10* 



114 APPENDIX. 

tempt a reconciliation with Pompey, and offer terms of 
accommodation ! < Would gentlemen pass tricks upon us 
for honest actions ?■ Examine the fact. Caesar keeps his 
army on foot, because Pompey does so. What entitles 
either of them to keep his army on foot ? The commis- 
sion of his country. By that authority they levied their 
armies — by that authority they should disband them. 
Had Caesar that authority to keep his army on foot ? — 
No. Had Pompey? — Yes. What right, then, had 
Caesar to keep his army on foot, because Pompey did so ? 
His army ! It was the army of his country — enrolled by 
the orders of his country — maintained by the treasure of 
his country — fighting under the banners of his country — 
seduced by his flatteries, his calumnies, and his bribes, to 
espouse the fortunes of a traitor. Sir, he never sincerely 
sought an accommodation. Had he wished to accomplish 
such an object, he would have adopted such measures as 
were likely to obtain it. He would have obeyed the order 
of the senate; disbanded his troops; laid down his com- 
mand; and appeared in Rome a private citizen. Such 
conduct would have procured him more dignity, more 
fame, more glory, than a thousand sceptres — he would 
not have come to parley with the trumpet and the stand- 
ard, the spear and the buckler — he would have proved 
himself to have been great in virtue. 

Upon the same principle, his clemency must go for 
nothing.— Clemency 1 — to attribute clemency to a man, is 
to imply that he has a right to be severe — a right to punish. 
Caesar had no right to punish. His clemency ! — it was 



APPENDIX. 115 

the clemency of an outlaw — a pirate — a robber — who 
strips his prey, but then abstains from slaying him! 

You were also told, that he paid the most scrupulous 
respect to the laws. He paid the most scrupulous respect 
to the laws! — he set his foot upon them ; and, in that 
prostrate condition, mocked them with respect ! 

But, if you would form a just estimate of Caesar's aims, 
look to his triumphs after the surrender of Utica — Utica, 
more honored in being the grave of Cato, than Rome, in 
having been the cradle of Caesar I 

You will read, Sir, that Caesar triumphed four times. 
First, for his victory over the Gauls; secondly, over 
Egypt; thirdly, over Pharnaces ; lastly, over Juba, the 
friend of Cato. His first, second, and third triumphs 
were, we are told, magnificent. Before him, marched the 
princes, and noble foreigners of the countries he had 
conquered; his soldiers, crowned with laurels, followed 
him, and the whole city attended w 7 ith acclamations. 
This was well! — the conqueror should be honored. His 
fourth triumph approaches — as magnificent as the former 
ones. It does not want its royal captive, its soldiers 
crowned with laurels, or its flushed conqueror, to grace 
it; nor is it less honored by the multitude of its spectators 
— but they send up no shout of exultation ; they heave 
loud sighs; their cheeks are frequently wiped ; their eyes 
are fixed upon one object, that engrosses all their senses 
— their thoughts — their affections. — It is the statue of 
Cato ! — carried before the victor's chariot ! It represents 
him rending open his wound, and tearing out his bowels; 
as he did in Utica, when Roman liberty was no more ! 



116 APPENDIX. 

Now, ask if Caesar's aim was the welfare of his country f 
Now, doubt if he was a man governed by a selfish ambi- 
tion ! — Now, question whether he usurped, for the mere 
sake of usurping ? He is not content to triumph over the 
Gauls, the Egyptians, and Pharnaees ; he must triumph 
over his own countrymen ! He is not content to cause 
the statues of Scipio and Petreius to be carried before 
him ; he must be graced by that of Cato I He is not eon- 
tent with the simple effigy of Cato ; he must exhibit that 
of his suicide ! He is not satisfied to insult the Romans 
with triumphing over the death of liberty: they must 
gaze upon the representation of her expiring agonies, and 
mark the writhings of her last — fatal struggle! 

Mr. Chairman, I confidently anticipate the triumph of 
our cause. 

13th Speaker. — Sir, with great reluctance I present 
myself to your notice at this late hour. We have proved 
that your patience is abundant — *we cannot presume that 
it is inexhaustible. I shall exercise it for only a few 
moments. Were our cause to be judged by the approbar 
tion which our opponents have received,, it would appear 
to be lost ; but that is far from being the case, Mr. Chair- 
man. The approbation they receive is unaccompanied 
by conviction. It is a tribute — and a merited one — to 
their eloquence, aad has not any reference to the justice 
of the part they take. Our cause is not lost — is not in, 
danger — does not apprehend danger. We are as strong 
as ever — as able for the contest, and as confident of victo? 



APPENDIX. 117 

ry. We fight under the banners of Csesar ; and Caesar 
never met an open enemy without subduing him. 

We grant that Caesar was a usurper ; but we insist 
that the circumstances of the times justified his usurpation. 
We insist that he became a usurper for the good of his 
country; for the salvation of the republic ; for the preserva- 
tion of its very existence ! What must have been the 
state of Roman liberty, when such men as Marius and 
Sylla could become usurpers? Monsters, against whose 
domination, nature and religion exclaimed! 

Gentlemen talk very prettily about the criminality of 
usurpation. They know it is a popular theme. All men 
are tenacious of their property ; and the gentlemen think 
that, if they can carry the feelings of their auditors along 
with them, in this respect, they may be certain of success 
in every other. We have not any objection to their flat- 
tering themselves with such fancies; but the cause of jus- 
tice shall not be sacrificed to their gratification. — Surely 
those gentlemen must be ignorant of the state of the 
republic, in those times; surely they have never heard, or 
read, that massacre was the common attendant of public 
elections ; that the candidates brought their money — 
openly — to the place of election, and distributed it among 
the heads of the different factions; that those factions 
employed force and violence, in favor of the persons who 
paid them; and that scarce any office was disposed of 
without being disputed, sword in hand, and without cost- 
ing the lives of many citizens ! 

A gentleman very justly said, that the love of country 
is the first, the second, and the last principle of a virtuous 



118 APPENDIX. 

mind. Now, Sir, it appears that the Roman people sold 
their country! — its offices — its honors — its liberty; sold 
them to the highest bidder — as they would sell their 
wares — a sheep — or the quarter of an ox; and that, after 
they had struck the bargain, they threw themselves into 
it, and fought manfully for the purchaser 1 Cicero and 
Cato lived in these times — Cicero, that saved Rome from 
the conspiracy of Catiline — Cato who would not survive 
the liberty of his country. The latter attempted to stop 
the progress of the corruption ; but his efforts were fruit* 
less. He could neither restrain its progress, nor mitigate 
its virulence. Thus, Sir, the independence of the repub- 
lic was virtually lost, before Caesar became a usurper; 
and, therefore, to say that Csesar destroyed the indepen- 
dence or liberty of his country, is to assert that he 
destroyed a nonentity. 

It was happily remarked, that the power of interfering 
with the tribunes, was fatal to the Roman people. Yes, 
Sir, it was fatal. The tribunes ought to have been inde- 
pendent of the people, from the moment of their entering 
on their office, to that of their laying it down. You 
were told the people had a right to the direction of their 
own affairs. Yes, Sir, they had a right. We do not 
dispute that. But it was a right by the abandonment of 
which they would have been gainers. It was a fatal 
right, by grasping at which, they lost every thing. It 
was an inconsistent right, for they stood as much in need 
of being protected from themselves, as of being protected 
from the nobility. Why does any man put his affairs 
into the hands of another, but because he cannot manage 



APPENDIX. 119 

them so well himself? If he cannot manage them so 
well himself, why should he interfere with the person to 
whose conduct he entrusts them? Because he has a 
right! I know he has; but it is an unfortunate right, for 
it leaves it in his power to ruin himself, in spite of good 
counsel and friendship ! 

Gentlemen talk of what are called, the people, as if they 
were the most enlightened part of the community! Are 
they the guardians of learning ? — or of the arts ?- — or of 
the sciences ? Do we select counsellors from them ? — or 
judges? — or legislators? Do we inquire among them for 
rhetoricians? — logicians? — or philosophers? — or, rather, 
do we not consider them as little cultivated in mind ? — 
little regulated by judgment? — much influenced by preju- 
dice? — greatly subject to caprice? — chiefly governed by 
passion? — Of course, Sir, I speak of what are generally 
called the people—the crowd, the mass of the community. 
But you ask me for a proof of the bad effects that resulted 
to the Roman people, from the liberty they possessed, of 
legislating directly for themselves. Look, Sir, to the 
proceedings of the forum! — What they did, they undid; 
what they erected, they threw down ; they enacted laws, 
and they repealed them ; they elected patriots, and they 
betrayed them; they humbled tyrants, and they exalted 
them ! You will find that the great converted the undue 
power, which the people possessed, into the means of 
subjugating the people. If they feared a popular leader, 
it was only necessary to spread, by their emissaries, a 
suspicion of his integrity, or set the engine of corruption 
to work, upon that frailest of all fortifications, popular 



/ 

120 APPENDIX. 

stability — and thus, Sir, they carried their point, humbled 
their honest adversaries, and laughed in the face of the 
wisest and most salutary laws. 

Mr. Chairman, I think that the times in which Caesar 
lived, called for, and sanctioned, his usurpation. I think 
his object was, to extinguish the jealousies of party; to 
put a stop to the miseries that resulted from them ; and to 
unite his countrymen. I think the divided state of the 
Roman people exposed them to the danger of a foreign 
yoke, from which they could be preserved, only by re- 
ceiving a domestic one. I think that Csesar was a great 
man ; and I conclude my trial of your patience, with the 
reply made to Brutus by Statilius, who had once deter- 
mined to die in Utica with Cato ; and by Favonius, an 
esteemed philosopher of those times. These men were 
sounded by Brutus, after he had entered into the con- 
spiracy for murdering Caesar. The former said, he 
* would rather patiently suffer the oppressions of an arbi- 
trary master, than the cruelties and disorders which 
generally attend civil dissensions.' The latter declared, 
that, in his opinion, a * civil war was worse than the most 
unjust tyranny.' 



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